A Letter to Her
by alwaysaclaw11
Summary: When Hermione arrives at Tom Riddle's orphanage, Tom starts to feel emotions besides fear and hate, emotions like compassion, desire and even friendship. But when his new found emotions draw him into a passionate relationship with Hermione, their lives and the future are threatened by an evil vampire out to destroy them both. Some Tombrax.
1. Air Raids

Before I begin my story, let me get this straight. I hate people. They're loud, gossipy, annoying and dreadfully dull. If it weren't for what they could do for me, I would just as soon they all walked off the nearest cliff.

But I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, never hated _her_.

Not for a second. (If you are reading this, I hope you know that).

So journey with me if you will, to a time long ago, though not much unlike today. A time of war, of prejudice, of fear. A German muggle named Adolf Hitler slowly made his way across Europe, an army of loyal soldiers in tow, claiming superiority of a race called Aryans.

_What a load of nonsense! There was nothing superior about any muggle, no matter his religion or the color of his hair._

But there were air raids – bombs exploding through London, children being shipped out of the cities to stay with strangers in the country, general mayhem and panic – and as I have resolved to tell the truth and nothing less in this account, I must confess:

I enjoyed every bloody minute of it.

A heavy gray cloud hung over Wool's Orphanage. I stared out the window, listening to the air drill sirens whirring.

"Riddle. What are you doing? Come along," said John, one of Wool's new volunteers. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back against his head with so much grease it looked like a helmet.

"It is a drill," I replied drolly. "I gave up playing pretend years ago."

"Someday it's going to be the real thing and you're going to be right sorry that you missed out."

"On learning how to run down the stairs?"

"See you're already wrong. You're not supposed to run."

"If the Luftwaffe starts dropping bombs, rest assured, I will be running."

John shook his head and not one hair moved. "It's _your _skin, Riddle. What do I care?"

With that, the obnoxious muggle turned on his heel and stomped down the stairs. My mind played through every curse I could use on him that would make the German air raids seem like a child's firework show.

A cluster of Wych Elms grew to the south side of the orphanage grounds, looking stalwart and sullen, as if they too listened to the radio announcements from that boisterous, portly muggle: Winston Churchill.

The man said something once that, even after all these years, finds a way to twist and tangle around my mind, repeating as if I can still hear the crackle of the radio.

_These cruel, wanton, indiscriminate bombings of London are, of course, a part of Hitler's invasion plans. He hopes, by killing large numbers of civilians, and women and children, that he will terrorize and cow the people of this mighty imperial city … Little does he know the spirit of the British nation, or the tough fiber of the Londoners._

...Little does he know the spirit of the British nation...

Anyway, we must return to the story at hand, and to those six Wych Elms that sat on the south corner of the lawn. There was a flash, a grand spark of light, exploding within their closely knit branches. At the time, I assumed it was just a rebellious ray of sunlight cracking through the overcast but now I know differently. That was the moment the world changed.

But I'll get to that later.

_Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy._

What was I writing about again? Oh yes, air drills, that's right.

While my peers at Wool's Orphanage huddled together in the bomb shelter beneath the building, I relaxed, my legs kicked up onto the crisp white sheet of the bed, mentally counting the days until I returned to Hogwarts, perfectly pleased to be alone. The desire to be with others was a weakness I did not share, nor did I wish to.

That was when I heard the knock at the door.

It was a strange thing, the knock. Not only because it was rare that anyone came to visit but that the knock happened during a time when everyone was supposed to be buried underground – like badgers.

I ignored it, leaning my head against the wall. But then there was another knock and another and another until it turned into a downright knocking frenzy. With a groan, I leapt out of the bed, shoved my wand in my back pocket, stormed down the stairs and through the drab grey hallways to the front door. I grabbed the handle and viciously slung it open.

Now for those of you who don't know I feel like I need to define a term. This may seem like an odd place to define it but you'll understand in due course. There's really no point in reading on if you don't understand this particular word.

_Scapegoat._

The word scapegoat has come to mean the fall guy, the dupe, the man who takes the blame. The term derives from a ceremony during Yom Kippur wherein the sins of a people is symbolically placed on a goat who, being a goat, has surely not sinned, and is banished into the wilderness, separating the people from their iniquities and most likely being eaten by a pack of hungry wolves.

Bear that in mind as you read on for it is crucial to understanding the story I am telling.

So I threw open the door and what did I find behind it but a girl. A girl with thick curly hair, crossed arms and eyes that stared unwaveringly into mine.

"Who are you?" I asked, crossing my arms to match.

"Hermione Granger."

"Shouldn't you be in a bomb shelter?"

She shoved past me. "Shouldn't you?"

"I'm not one for rules," I replied, watching her sinewy body as it stepped toward the matron's old wooden desk.

"Fancy that," she said, turning back to write upon me with her venomous gaze. "Neither I am." As poison leaked from her irises, I held my stare with hers, trying to recognize her, to uncover what horrible wrong I must have done for her to look at me that way but I had never seen this girl before.

"Why are you here?" I stepped closer to her and though she did not step back, I felt even further away from her. Unable to touch her.

"I'm an orphan. This is an orphanage, is it not?"

"I'm not sure there are any more beds," I lied, hoping to get rid of an extra voice I would have to listen to. An extra moron I would have to contend with.

"I will sleep on the floor. You going to tell me that you've somehow run out of floor?"

I furrowed my brow, searching for a crack in her demeanor, a place I could break through and find out who she really was but it was like staring a brick wall.

"You realize I don't run this place."

She jumped onto the desk. "Then I'll just wait here for whoever does, Tom."

I shook my head, wondering why I ever opened the door, then it crept up on me like a shadow. "How did you know my name?"

Her pink lips stretched into a smile. "I guessed. It's such a common name."

I felt a flare in my chest, like a lick of dragon's flame. _It's such a common name._

I was not common.

Tense, I whipped my head back, snarling. My cotton shirt and suspenders felt tight against my chest as I straightened my back. "Well, Hermione Granger, you are going to regret the day you came here."

She laughed, slid off the desk and looked me straight in the eyes. I was close enough to kill her. She was close enough to kill me. "No, Tom Riddle, you are going to regret the day I came here."

_I don't._

**A/N: I wanted to try my hand at Tomione, a new favorite ship of mine. Sorry for some of the other dramione/snarry fics that I haven't updated recently. I just had this idea and had to write. Please review and let me know what you think. Thanks!**


	2. The Dress Shoppe

The last month of summer was always the hardest. The waiting to be taken from that awful place, to return home to Hogwarts. The war made it difficult to leave Wool's as often as I had before but on days when the sun shone and the whoosh of airplane propellers could not be heard, I would sneak over to Diagon Alley and hide amongst the magic-rich air of the Leaky Cauldron.

One early August morning, I planned on doing just that, but when I stepped in the hall, I found not only Mrs. Cole, the orphanage's matron, standing in the hallway, looking dour, but Hermione Granger, waiting at her side, wearing a ratty black dress she had obviously borrowed from one of the other girls.

"Tom," Mrs. Cole said, refusing eye contact with me, not that I blamed her. "You are planning on going into the city today, are you not?"

I opened my mouth to lie but the fact that I was dressed in nice slacks and a crisp white shirt and grey tie contradicted any false testimony I wanted to bear. "Yes," I muttered.

"Good. You can take Miss Granger with you."

"What?" I spat. Hermione's mouth dropped but she quickly closed it.

"I didn't mean- I'll get along alright-" stuttered Hermione.

"Nonsense. Tom doesn't mind."

We both just stared at each other and, for a moment, experienced a solidarity, a mutual understanding, the likes of which we would not have again for quite some time. I knew what she wanted me to say, what my gut begged me to say, but I ignored the urging.

"Not at all," I said, sending Hermione a salacious grin. She rolled her eyes, her cheeks turning hot pink.

"I can manage by myself." Her eyes narrowed into slits, bringing out the soft curve of her forehead and the elegance of her cheekbones. Never in my life had I been so _intrigued _by the cut of another person's body but she was an intricate spell I needed to master.

"Oh no, dear. London is too dangerous right now for a sweet girl like you. Much too dangerous," said Mrs. Cole, squeezing Hermione's shoulder. "Thank you, Tom," she said, then trotted down the stairs.

"What do you want in London?" I asked.

"None of your business." She turned and her hair nearly smacked me in the face. I grabbed her arm and an unusual sensation crept through me, like a charm tingling my skin, lighting the tips of my fingers.

"I am your escort. I should know what trouble you plan on getting yourself into."

"The surprise is half the fun."

I smirked at Hermione, ignoring the creature crawling around in the pit of my stomach. "What's the other half?"

"The company."

I leaned against the wall, coyly trying to steal a glance down her dress. "Well we're in a bad spot then, aren't we pet?"

She stepped forward, the tips of her Mary Janes meeting my leather-soled boots. Her breath blew warm and minty across my face. "You haven't seen a bad spot, yet. Just wait and see. I plan to make good on my promise."

"What promise is that again?" _As if I didn't remember._

"That you will regret the day you ever opened the door for Hermione Granger."

I paused. "Do we know each other or something?"

Something in her tense posture melted. "Not yet," she whispered. "Not yet."

London was quiet place during this time in history. Few people walked the streets and even many of the shops had closed down. I often wondered what it would be like in America with their booming factories and posters with that old man who pointed his finger at you. Sure – they were gearing up for a war too but not one in their backyard. That gave them a sense of distance and the ability to say "not just yet".

Still, Hermione and I walked the quiet sidewalks, nary a word to be shared between us. Just the sound of her breathing and sighing, and thinking back on it, I imagine she could hear the sound of the cogs in my brain clanking as I tried to formulate my plan of attack.

I would figure out what she wanted from me – this strange muggle. Because she did not know who I was, she did not know what I was capable of.

All these years later, I don't remember much of the scheme I devised at that moment but I remember asking this question – though again, I do not remember why – so do not ask me.

"What happened to your parents?"

She stopped dead on the sidewalk. I almost crashed into her. Just as quick as she stopped she began walking again. "I lost them," she said under her breath. I wasn't even sure if she meant for me to hear or not.

"So they died?"

Her tongue darted out, licking her chapped lips and I couldn't help but stare. "They were in danger. You see, someone wants me dead."

"Why would someone want to kill you?"

There was a dreaminess in her soft features, an airiness that made me feel like if I reached out to touch her my fingers would fall right through her skin. "There are many reasons as I'm sure you'll come to see."

"Who wishes to see you dead?" I quicken my step and block her path.

"I'm not telling you that." She paused, the wind kicking up her curly hair, her arms stiff as boards at her side. "We're here."

I furrowed my brow. The pub across the street had boards over the windows, the store behind us had rows of fancy jewelry, and the only other shop sold women's dresses.

"You're taking me dress shopping?"

"They're not for you. Thought it's really none of my business what you like to do in the privacy-"

I grabbed her arm abruptly. She gasped.

"I don't wear dresses."

She laughed. "Well, I do. Now come in here and sit. It won't kill you."

Hermione held the door open for me. Scowling, and considering curses for Mrs. Cole, I swept past Hermione into the dress shop, that was aptly called The Dress Shoppe.

I coughed. The thick fragrance of rose blossom, vanilla and old lady smacked me across the face. I saw Hermione cringe but she did a commendable job covering it up with a pretend sneeze.

_Side Note: I went back there a few days ago. The Dress Shoppe is now something called a Starbucks but it still smells faintly of roses._

A tearing pink paint covered the walls contrasting with the plush mint green carpet. Dozens of dusty looking pastel dresses hung from copper racks and a persian cat stretched in the windowsill. It hissed as I passed by.

"Oh hush. Mister Patterkins," said a doddering corpulent woman who waddled from behind a long golden curtain with the kind of dramatics that would suggest she thought herself not unlike the Wizard of Oz. "Don't know what's gotten into him. He usually adores strangers." The old woman eyed me warily. "How can I help you?"

"You sure this is where you want to shop?" I whispered to Hermione.

She glared. "It's where Mrs. Cole sent me." Then, sporting a genuine smile, Hermione turned to the woman. "I was just looking for a few dresses."

"Good. Good," said the woman. "I've got plenty. Business has not been too good recently with the war and all. It's nice to see a young couple getting out and enjoying each other even in the most desperate times."

"We're not a couple," spat Hermione.

"Oh..." The woman sighed. "Unfortunate. He's a good looking guy." She nudged Hermione whose eyes lit with indignant fury. I smirked. "And we could all die tonight. You shouldn't let that one slip through your fingers."

Hermione stared at me. "I don't plan to."

"Good. Yes, very good. Now – where was I, oh yes, dresses." With a strange burst of energy, the woman scurried through the stacks, snatching skirts and dresses off the racks and tossing them over her shoulder. In a matter of seconds, the shopkeeper's form could no longer be distinguished as anything but a pile of laundry.

"I think that's enough," said Hermione, her eyes wide. "I'm sure I'll find something in there."

"Very well," the woman's voice was muffled. "Let's head to the dressing rooms."

With a quick glance back at me, Hermione followed the woman behind another one of her theatrical curtains. I leaned against the window and searched in my pocket for a cigarette. I removed one and lit it, breathing in the sour taste, and letting it relax my body.

_Public Service Announcement: Smoking is bad for your health though we didn't know back then. But I'm sure if we would have thought about it at all we would have realized the potential health risks of lighting poison on fire and putting it on our mouths. _

Anyway, back to our story. I waited there, feeling the sun against my back, unsure of why I even came in the first place – or why I was so intrigued with this Hermione Granger who seemed to have it out for me. Maybe that was it. Of all the people who had a right to hate me all the way down to my bone marrow, she just wasn't one of them. I had never seen her before. Or heard her name. Or even said anything cruel or offensive. She seemed to hate me for the pure intrinsic pleasure of hating and that was a possibility I found quite intriguing.

_I had I found another lover of hate? A kindred spirit?_

She stepped through the curtain and laugh exploded from my lips. I rarely laughed and certainly not with that kind of guffawing enthusiasm but even I could not help it. That stern, hard girl was draped in canary yellow chiffon and bows the size of dinner plates were sewn haphazardly across her breasts and around the hem.

"What?" Her arms crossed and her eyes sparked but the fact she looked liked a molting chicken stole any possible intimidation.

"It's... it's very you."

"Shove it up your-"

"Watch your tongue, young lady!" snapped the shopkeeper. "This is not a whore house."

I snickered and Hermione sent me another glare that, even in the hideous frock, sent a tiny twinge of something like fear through my insides. The woman pushed Hermione back behind the curtain. A few moments later, Hermione returned to the main area of the shop.

My eyes moved from the clock on the wall, to Hermione. She wore a tight emerald dress with a low back and a neckline that revealed the curve of her clavicle. Sweat leaked from between my fingers and I felt as if I needed a long drink of water. My gaze drifted past the hem of her skirt to her legs veiled in thin black stockings with the dark seam running up the back of her calves.

The sensation crawled up my legs like snakes – into my arms and my fingers and even my lips. I had never felt this way before but I wanted to coil around her, pull her close to me. I wanted to hear her say my name, breathe it against my ear.

_Lord Voldemort._

"She keeps making me come out here," said Hermione, her brow drawn together. "I know you couldn't care less."

A clapping, thunderous explosion cracked through the air like a sword, ringing in my ears, muddling any other sound. The ground trembled beneath my feet. I stumbled forward, the cigarette falling from my mouth. Hermione tumbled into a rack of clothes, a shrill scream escaping her lips. The shopkeeper's eyes widened, she clutched her chest and smacked hard against the floor.

Hermione leapt toward the woman and I followed, mostly out of curiosity. But as I knelt down beside her, I could feel it. Like a presence. Like an endless, swirling pit.

_Death._

Another bomb split the sky with its horrible wail. Hermione fell forward, her hands against my chest, my arm bracing her back. Our eyes locked.

We were under attack.

A/N: Having an interesting but fun time writing from Tom's perspective. Hope you're enjoying it. Let me know what you think so far. Please leave a review!


	3. Lumos

"Is she alive?" asked Hermione as she pulled away from me. I sat there frozen as ceramic tea cups fell off the shelves and smashed on the floor, as the lights flickered and flashed.

Hermione threw herself over the shopkeeper, her fingers searching for a pulse.

"I think she had a heart attack," I managed to say. "We need to get out of here." I shot to my feet.

_You looked at me when I said "we" and now I know why._

"I – I feel it. She has a pulse. She's just fainted." She patted the woman on the cheek. "Wake up. Come on, please. Wake up!"

Another painful shock radiated through the building, throwing me forward. Hermione gasped and when I looked at her, I saw terror radiating through her features. Usually when I saw terror, a sense of glee poured through me but when I saw it on her, it made my head spin, made me sick.

"There's a door over here. Maybe it leads somewhere safer." I shoved my way around the fallen racks and broken trinkets. My hand grasped the brass knob and pulled it back. My stomach jolted. It was a dark, dingy staircase leading down...

My first instinct was to hurl myself down those stairs and lock the door. I was a wizard. I was magic. Magic should not die. But something I never felt before – something like a cord tying me to her – turned my head back to see Hermione, struggling to lift the massive woman. Her voice was cracking now.

"Please. Please. Come on. Open your eyes. We have to go."

_Run down the stairs. Leave her. Run down the stairs. Leave her._

_I can't._

I ran back through the shop, skidding on the slick floor to Hermione's side. "We need to go now. If we stay here, we'll die."

_You'll die._

"Help me." Her eyes turned to me, dark, fascinating, swirling. "Tom – help me."

She was asking me to help her carry the woman. She probably weighed three hundred pounds. Even together we could not carry three hundred pounds of basically dead weight.

The loudest bomb of all exploded. A stinging light blinding me and the windows shattered, spraying glass everywhere.

My heart beat wildly in my chest. I could feel the stairway calling me but there was something else. Something primal and powerful, holding me in the spot.

_Help me._

I reached out, wrapping my arms around Hermione's waist. She flailed and thrashed but I just held her tighter, smelling the sweet sage scent of her hair.

"Let me go. We can't leave her. I can't leave her. Let go of me!"

As she twisted in my grasp, I dragged her through the debris, hoping against hope that a bomb would not land directly on top of us before we could get to the shelter.

"Please, please," cried Hermione. "We have to help her. No!"

We slid through the door. Still holding Hermione with arm, I shut the door and dragged her the rest of the way down the steps. Her body stayed tensed but she did not fight me.

When my foot hit the concrete floor, I noticed one small light dangling from the ceiling, somehow in the chaos, it had managed to stay on.

Once we were at the bottom of the stairs, Hermione jerked out of my arms. She slammed her fist agains the wall and slid to the floor, her head in her hands.

Breathing heavily, the jolt of energy from the chaos above, slipped away. I fell down beside her – sitting just feet away. Hermione's hand covered her mouth and she stared up at the lightbulb.

My eyes could not help but trace her lines as they were artistically blurred by the dim lighting. She was still wearing that beautiful green dress. A part of me wanted to scoot closer, to run my fingers down her back, to slip the thin straps from her shoulders – I blinked, letting the thoughts wash over me.

_Merlin she was is beautiful._

Her gaze turned from the lightbulb to me. A shard of glass stuck out from her skin just along her cheekbone. Blood trickled down, painting coppery streaks across her face. I scooted closer. She cringed but did not pull away as I lifted my hand to the glass.

"You have a -"

"It's fine," she said cruelly, her head turning.

My hand caught her chin. "No it's not." The glass nearly cut my fingers as I grasped it and plucked it away. She hissed. Some of her blood dripped over my fingers, so red and yet somehow clear and pure. The cut was deep and would probably require stitches or professional magic to heal properly. Still, I had the strangest urge to run my thumb over the fleshy wound.

Just as I touched the cut, something leapt out of me like breath being sucked from chest. Her eyes locked with mine. As my hand dropped away from her face, my thumb caught on her bottom lip and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Then I noticed the cut was... gone?

Impossible. My wand was in my coat pocket. Had I somehow done magic the way I had when I was younger? But it didn't make sense. I had never done_ that_ kind of magic.

I had never healed.

But the evidence was right there – where there had once been a deep wound was smooth, porcelain skin crusted with dried blood.

What was she doing to me?

It was so unbelievable I tried to touch her again but she caught my hand.

"Don't touch me," she breathed but her hand was wrapped with mine like everything moved in slow motion.

Then it hit. The loudest sound I had ever heard. The light above our heads exploded in a rain of sparks. Hermione gasped and squeezed my hand.

"Now she _is_ dead," whispered Hermione, her hand slipping away from mine. I could no longer see her face but I could still hear her breathing... I could still smell her.

"You can't blame yourself," I said.

"I don't," she said. "I blame you."

Anger clawed at me from the inside, a beast trying to tear me apart. "I saved your life."

There was a long pause. "Why?"

_I don't know. I still don't know. I'll never know._

_...because you were breaking my curse..._

"It's still daylight," I said.

"What?"

The bombings happened almost exclusively at night. "Why are they attacking in the middle of the day?"

"I don't know. But it doesn't feel like daylight down here."

I could have gotten in trouble for it. I knew it when I did it – I did not know how I would explain it to her, all I knew was that I had the light I could feel in my bones she so desperately craved.

My fingers wrapped around the wood of my wand and I laid it the floor in front of me.

"Lumos," I breathed, illuminating the tip of the wand.

_I should have know then. You never asked me how I did it. _

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please read and review. If you have any comments or questions I try to get back to everyone. Thanks for reading and for all the reviews and favorites and follows I have gotten so far. Encourages me to write faster. Thanks again!**


	4. Chocolate Frog

The bombs lasted most of the day, it seemed, and into the night. After awhile the ringing in my ears was so loud I could not hear anything.

Between the fear and the loud jolts, sleeping did not come easy but with the darkness and the silence hanging between us, eventually my eyes closed and drifted off.

The next morning I woke, my eyes blinking, as reality set it. _The bombs. The woman. The magic. Hermione. _There was a pressure against my chest. I glanced down and sawa tangle of brown hair. Though I still don't know why, I did not move; instead, I watched her chest move up and down and listened to the soft whistle of her breath squeezing out from between her lips.

She mewed softly then twitched against me. When she looked up and her eyes met mine, Hermione jolted across the room with a cracking gasp.

"I-uh-" she stuttered.

"Good morning."

She ran her hands over her face. "Is it morning.?"

"How should I know?" I snatched my still lit wand from the ground and stood. Hermione struggled to her feet.

"Let's get out of here." Hermione stormed to the bottom of the stairwell.

"Are we sure it's safe?" Once again, I instinctively grabbed her arm. She tore away from me.

"Only one way to find out." With a deep breath, she jogged up the stairs and threw open the door. "Oh no."

I ran up behind her. Dresses were scattered all over the floor, covered in glass. Parts of the ceiling had fallen, providing a view of the flat above us.

Hermione's eyes drifted to a pile of rubble. She crossed her arms but I could see her shaking. That pile of rubble was where we had left the shopkeeper.

"I can't stay here anymore," she said under her breath and stepped through a fresh hole in the wall. I followed.

The shop was nothing compared to the street. Asphalt was torn up in places, whole buildings crumbling and people... there were people, wailing, crying on the sidewalks. It was a screeching, awful noise. I just wanted everyone to shut up.

When we finally made it back to the orphanage, Hermione walked away without a word to me – but I knew something had happened, though being me, it would take years to grasp just what it was. But that ordeal had bound us together, connected us in a way I did not know possible.

The next few weeks passed and I did my best to avoid the coverage of the bombing on the radio. To myself, I said it was because I didn't care but somewhere inside I knew it was more than that. I could have been killed... no magic could have stopped it.

_Not even my magic._

I had been faced with my own powerlessness and as I sat in my room in the dark, I thought of every spell, every curse, I could create to protect myself from something like that happening again. I could not allow some crude muggle weapon to destroy Lord Voldemort.

There had to be something I could do – anything to make sure that if my body was attacked, my essence, my soul, would live on. But what?

It was an early cloudy morning. The day I was meant to leave for Hogwarts. I dressed and packed, locking my trunk. Finally the summer was over and I could search at the library for the protection I now knew I needed. Protection from the weakness of my own perishable flesh.

I kept my eyes firmly fixed ahead as I walked through London to King's Cross – but every once and awhile my gaze would slip to the still destroyed buildings, the cracked sidewalks, the burnt alleyways.

In the distance, I spotted King' Cross just as sturdy and grey as always, unflinching under the torrent of the German attacks. Kids being hugged by saddened parents filled the station. They must have been taking more trainloads of children to the country side because of the attack.

Filled with gladness at returning to the only home I'd ever known, I raced through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾. Smoky fog billowed from the train and, much like on the other platforms, parents squeezed their children tight to their chest. A twinge of jealousy sparked through me. That was something I'd never had. My mom had been too weak to live and my father... well he was...

_He didn't want me._

"Riddle," a familiar voice called. I turned to see a lithe blonde boy my own age, moving away from his parents, smirking.

"Malfoy." I smiled. Of all the people I knew at the time Abraxas Malfoy was the most... tolerable.

"Torture any muggles during break?" He clapped his hand on my shoulder.

"A few." I thought of Hermione, but really she had been the one to torture me.

Malfoy and I stepped inside the Hogwarts Express, the familiar sound of chattering other students and the candy trolley rolling down the aisles. We were both a little late so every compartment we passed was full until we got to one at the end.

"Finally," said Malfoy as he opened the door.

The compartment was empty aside from one girl with long curly hair and her nose deep in a book. My stomach lurched. It couldn't be... but it was.

"You've got be bloody kidding me!" I shouted.

Hermione glanced up from her book, a sneer written across her face. "Good morning, Tom."

"Do you two-" Malfoy started to talk but I cut him off.

"You're a witch?"

She shrugged. "Surprised?"

"Annoyed." I glared and she just smiled back at me like she knew the more at ease she seemed the more it would put me on edge.

"Well. It's nice to meet you," said Malfoy, extending his hand. _Always the gentleman. _

Scowling, Hermione took it. "Hermione Granger."

Malfoy sat down next to her. "You're obviously not a first year. Where'd you go to school before this?"

The train lurched forward almost throwing me on top of Hermione but I caught myself on the wall then collapsed into a seat. We were on the Hogwarts Express... _I could use a curse without the trace now, right?_

"The Salem Institute of Magic."

"What about your accent?" I snapped.

"I grew up here. Then my dad got a job in the states."

"Well, welcome," said Malfoy. "Though this isn't the best time to be visiting us."

Hermione stared out the window as the rolling hills passed by. "No I guess it isn't."

Malfoy paused. "We're both in Slytherin. Maybe you'll get sorted with us."

She sighed then looked at me, her eyes narrowed. "Not unless they've decided to start letting muggleborns in."

Of course she had to be the only thing worse than a muggle. _A mudblood._

"Probably not then," said Malfoy.

"No," she jeered. "I guess not."

The candy trolley rolled by and Malfoy jumped to his feet. "I'm going to get some, uh, something." He jumped into the hall.

There was a cloud of heavy silence mixing with a toxic anger. I could not stand her and she could not stand me. Yet something – fate or destiny or just plain bad luck – had us twisted and tangled up.

"You could have told me." I huffed.

"You're not supposed to tell people."

"But you knew."

She crossed her arms. "How would I know?"

I pulled my wand out of my coat pocket and lit the tip. Her eyes fell to the small light.

"Oh, right." She breathed.

"So why didn't you say anything?"

"I was pissed."

"You were what?"

Hermione sat forward, her cheeks bright red. "Pissed, angry, mad as hell."

I shook my head, running a hand through my hair. "What did I ever do to you?"

She laughed but it was cold, dead... "What did you ever do to me? You must be out of your freaking mind!" Hermione shouted, startling me.

I shot to my feet. "You crazy-"

"I hate you!"

Malfoy stepped back in the compartment, his eyes wide. We both shut up but our eyes stayed connected.

"Everything alright?"

I was breathing heavily as hatred coursed through me like venom but I had to control myself. This wasn't the time or the place. I'd deal with this mudblood later.

"We're fine," I said but that just made her eyes fill with even more rage.

"Fine! Merlin, Riddle. We not _fine. _I... I can't do this. This was a mistake." She started shaking her head and shoved past Malfoy into the hall.

I collapsed on the couch, completely exhausted. Something about her just drained me but at the same time, being around her made me _feel_ more than I had in a long time.

_In my whole life._

Slowly, Malfoy sat down beside me with brightly colored treats cradled in his arms. "What'd you do? Sleep with her and forget to call?"

I huffed. "Like I'd sleep with a mudblood."

"She _is_ pretty." Malfoy said, opening a chocolate frog.

_Pretty...Challenging. Infuriating... Exquisite._

There was a long pause before I spoke. "Abraxas... I am formulating a mission."

"Oh no." He chewed his chocolate frog.

I glared at him. "We're going to make that mudblood's life miserable."

"We are?" Malfoy raised a blonde eyebrow, his fair features screwed up in confusion. "How?"

I folded my long fingers together, thinking of the way she drove me mad – made me feel – made me want. "I'm going to make her fall in love with me and then-" I picked up the chocolate frog box and crushed it in my fist.

_I still have that chocolate frog box._

__**A/N: Sorry this chapter took a little longer. Hope you enjoyed it and are excited about them finally getting to Hogwarts. Let me know what you think. Please read and review. Thanks for all the reviews, favorites and follows I've gotten so far. I appreciate them all! **


	5. Foolproof Plans

I paced back and forth in the small room that Malfoy and I shared in the Slytherin dorms. Malfoy had been my roommate since first year and I was glad I only had to deal with him.

He sat on his bed with a book open on his lap. Every once in awhile, his grey eyes would lift to me and he'd watch me walk.

"She's a Gryffindor," I said.

"Are you surprised?" he asked.

I sighed. "Hardly."

"So what's the problem?" Malfoy kept staring down at his book.

"Nothing. This just makes it harder."

"Makes what harder?"

I crossed my arms and glared at Malfoy. "Making her fall in love with me." I had already told him this.

Malfoy smacked his head against the headboard and groaned. "I thought you were kidding."

"Since when do I _kid_?"

He shut his book and let his feet fall to the plush grey carpet. "Fair enough. But making someone fall in love with you... I mean like real love not love potion love... it's not just something you can decide to do to someone. It has to happen naturally, a chemistry between two people."

"Are you saying there is something I can't do?" I snarled.

"Yes. Ice skate. But that's not the point-" Malfoy unbuttoned his shirt then grabbed a clean white T-shirt from his drawer and put it on.

"I'm not _that _bad at ice skating. I think your sister pushed me down," I said, gazing down at my shoes, arms crossed.

"Well, that would be record-setting bad luck seeing as I don't have a sister." Malfoy pulled his jeans off and slid into bed.

I scratched my head. _I really thought he had a sister. _"What are you doing?"

"It's midnight. I'm going to sleep."

I was not done talking to him about this. "You can't sleep now."

"Yeah. You know why?" he said, turning over. "Because you keep talking to me."

I snatched a pillow off my bed and threw it at him. He quickly tossed it back at me and I caught it.

"We need a plan."

Malfoy turned over, burying his face in his pillow. "There's no way you're letting me out of this, is there?" His voice was muffled.

"Now we're on the same page." I grinned and sat down on the edge of my bed, my mind swimming with devious thoughts.

A reluctant Malfoy and I spent the next four hours devising a foolproof plan to make that stupid mudblood Granger fall in love with me just so I could break her heart.

_Time to define another term. Foolproof. This term is not quite as important as the other and, of course, is a bit more self-explanatory. Foolproof means involving no risk or harm, even when tampered with. It means never-failing. All my plans were foolproof, well, until I met you._

Both Malfoy and I had potions first period. It was OWL level so I was unsure if Hermione would be there or not. My question was answered when I walked in the door and saw her sitting on a stool in the front room, looking up at Professor Slughorn who was talking jovially to her, his large stomach bouncing with laughter.

I exchanged a look with Malfoy and we both sat down on either side of her.

She sneered at me and I sneered back.

_The Plan: Impress her with my unmatched magical skill._

"Good morning," said Malfoy. "How was your first night at Hogwarts?"

"Just fine," Hermione replied, smiling toothlessly.

"Good to hear." Malfoy pulled out his quill. Hermione eyed him warily as if she was waiting for him to do something like explode, or attack her, or insult her...

_She obviously didn't know Abraxas. If anyone was going to explode, attack or insult, __it would be me._

"There are like a million other open seats," said Hermione to me under her breath.

"I always sit up front."

"He does," chimed Malfoy. "He's very committed to his studies."

Hermione's eyes did that creepy narrowing thing that they always did before she said something cryptic that made perfect sense to her but made absolutely none to me. "I'll bet he does."

I just shrugged.

Other students were up from their seats and talking and laughing, catching up after a summer apart.

"Settle down, class. Settle down."

Slughorn grinned, showing off his yellowing teeth. "Oh Tom– how nice it is to see you. I trust you had a good break."

"Of course, sir," I said, smiling widely. "But I'm so glad to be back in your class because I have so much more to learn from such an accomplished potion master."

Slughorn blushed. "Oh Tom, you flatter me."

_Oh-Tom: I'm rather certain Slughorn thought this was my name._

Hermione made a gagging noise. Instinctively, I kicked the base of her stool, tipping it up and almost knocking her into Malfoy. She turned around and kicked my chair but I had a grip on the table.

Slughorn cleared his throat and, seething, we both turned our attention to him.

"For class today I thought it would be a good idea to start off by making a very special potion. Since you're all OWL level students, I feel you are capable not only of brewing this complicated potion but also of understanding its power and not using it unwisely – or preferably, at all.

Hermione's hand shot straight up.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I believe?"

She nodded. "What kind of potion is this?"

Slughorn grinned. "Amortentia. It's-"

"The most powerful love potion in the world," I replied.

"Very good, Tom, my boy. Very good. Five points for Slytherin"

_Tom-my-boy: Slughorn's favorite thing to call me when I did something extra remarkable (which was quite often)._

"It smells like whatever you're most attracted to," Hermione remarked.

"What do you smell, Hermione?" I spat her name.

"Go to hell," she snapped.

Slughorn stepped back. "Miss Granger – we do not speak like that in my classroom. Five points from Gryffindor. "Anyway," Slughorn cleared his throat, "You have the rest of the class to brew me a bottle of amortentia. Whoever is first to brew me a perfect potion will get ten extra credit points on the first test."

The class stood up and calmly rummaged through their things and searched for ingredients. Malfoy was flipping through the pages of his book when Hermione and I, frozen until this point, both jumped to our feet and exploded in a fury. I was absolutely determined to show her how great I was at potions. How she could never hope to do better than a man like me.

For the next fifty minutes, Hermione and I worked like mad people. Every few minutes I saw Malfoy glance up at us, a mix of worry and confusion on his face. He worked slowly and steadily away at his potion. Ten extra credit points wasn't much an incentive but that's not why I was doing this.

I looked over and my heart caught. Hermione's potion was nearly done. I could smell it. Sage and old books and – She just stopped and sat down in her seat, arms folded. This was my chance to finish. I threw in the last ingredient, stirred it a few times and scooped it into a bottle.

"I've finished professor," I nearly shouted. Grinning, Slughorn took the bottle from me and looked at it.

"Perfect, Oh Tom, my boy."

_Oh-Tom-my-boy: The rarest of all the accolades. For only my finest moments._

Hermione stirred her potion once more. "Me too."

_Except this wasn't one of my finest moments. She had let me win._

My eyes met Malfoy's and he mouthed. "Sorry."

Hermione turned to me and her mouth was smiling but her eyes were dark. "Well done, Tom. You deserve it."

She grabbed her bag and, without waiting for Slughorn to dismiss the class, she stormed out of the potion's room, letting the door slam behind her.

Weeks passed and I tried everything to convince her of my greatness, but nothing worked. It was... incredible... insane. She could keep up with me in every single subject. Potions, transfiguration, defense against the dark arts, arithmancy. It was driving me crazy. I spent half of my time under a pile of books trying to figure out someway to show her how powerful I was, but no matter what I did she didn't care. It was time to move on to plan b.

_The New Plan: Make Hermione jealous._

One afternoon, I was sitting by the fire in the Slyhterin common room, watching the flames lick against the stone hearth. Everyone else was at the pitch waiting for the first quidditch match of the year between Slytherin and Ravenclaw so I was the only the one there – at least, that's what I thought.

A few seconds later, Malfoy ran out of our bedroom and into the common room, dressed in his green quidditch robes, his blonde hair in its normal state of disarray. He flopped down on the couch beside me and started putting on his shoes.

"Can I borrow something?" I asked.

He pulled on his other shoe. His ears were bright red. I could tell he was nervous for his first game as captain but he would never say anything to me because he knew I found quidditch a waste of time.

"Sure, man. Anything. What do you need?"

"I require one of your women."

His shimmery grey eyes widened. "One of my what?"

"You know... one of the many wenches that follow you around."

Malfoy was tall and lean with a boyish face and a laugh that sounded like an Irving Berlin song. He was intelligent, funny, kind, rich as hell and a damn good quidditch player. So understandably the girls were all over him.

"Let me get this straight," he said, standing. "You would like to borrow one of my... _wenches_."

I nodded. "It's not like you're using them."

Malfoy started to smile but then he bit his lip. "You're not going to try and make Hermione jealous, are you?"

"The other thing isn't working."

"No it decidedly isn't." Malfoy smirked. "I've got to go to the game."

He was about to the step through the door and leave me. "Brax," I said quietly. He stopped, grasping the doorframe. I could see the veins bulging on the back of his hand.

He turned around, an eyebrow raised. "What about Leila? I think she likes you."

"That insufferably vapid blonde girl?"

"I didn't think you wanted to have a deep conversation with her."

"Come on, Brax. What about that one girl the ginger - with the tattoo on her-"

"Crystal?" Malfoy crossed his arms, then shook his head, a smile breaking across his lips. He was giving in. He always gave in to me. "Fine. She'll be at the game."

Slytherin won the quidditch game. Ravenclaw was quite a few points ahead of them but Malfoy flew down out of nowhere and grabbed the snitch out of the air. He was everyone's favorite person that night. He even got a few congratulations from Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. That was the thing about Abraxas Malfoy – nobody hated him. You couldn't. He was too damn nice to everyone.

I was standing there in the corridor leading to the Great Hall, listening to that Sparkle...Marble... oh, Crystal-girl going on and on about how... hell I had no idea what she was talking about... I was waiting for Hermione.

Sure enough, I saw her coming up the hallway. Her eyes alight, her brown hair swishing back and forth. She was talking to someone. Until she got closer I didn't realize it was Malfoy, but it was and they were both smiling.

_Why won't she smile at me?... Merlin, Tom, get a hold of yourself._

Without hesitation, I grabbed Crystal's shoulder and slammed her mouth against mine. I had kissed girls before. Plenty of the girls at Wool's and Crystal kissed just like them but as my lips met hers and my arms wrapped around her neck, all I could think about was what it would be like if she was Hermione. If it were her hand tugging my hair, her tongue licking against mine, her body pressed closely to me.

I felt another arm grab mine and pull me away from the girl. My eyes widened and my heart leapt into my throat when I saw it was Hermione. She turned to Crystal and snarled. "Why don't you go somewhere and, I don't know, paint your toenails." Crystal looked taken aback but Hermione gave her one of her glares and Crystal stormed off.

A swell of pride rose in my stomach. I had done it. Won. She couldn't stand the sight of me with another girl.

"Tom," she grabbed my tie and ran her fingers down it. Blood rushed to my cheeks and my heart rate picked up. "Seeing you with her... it just... Merlin, I don't know but now I just want to shove you against this wall, tear your clothes off your body and lick you up and down until you beg for mercy."

I breathed out a heavy sigh, glaring down at Hermione. "You're making fun of me now."

"Yes." She rolled her eyes. "And you should congratulate your friend. He kicked ass today at the game." Hermione caught up with a group of Gryffindor girls and disappeared in their mix of black and gold and red.

Malfoy approached me. "That was-"

"Good job," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"On the game. Good job."

"Um thanks...Sorry your plan didn't work. There is something else you could try, you know?"

"What's that?"

"Being nice to her."

My stomach turned at the thought like I'd eaten something rotten. Nice and Tom Riddle did not go together. Ever.

"It probably won't kill you," said Malfoy.

"But is it worth the risk?"

Malfoy shook his head, that perky smile across his face. "Let's eat dinner. I'm starving."

I followed Malfoy but my mind was on Hermione. Was it worth it? Pretending to be nice? If it worked. If it broke her down, hurt her, showed her just what I could do. Yes, it would be absolutely worth it.

That night, Malfoy and I were lying in our beds. I could hear him breathing gently, rhythmically. Thoughts bounced around in my head but I couldn't seem to hold anyone of them down.

"Malfoy, are you asleep?" I asked loudly.

He jolted, then groaned. "Not anymore." His voice was unusually rough and hoarse.

"Good," I said. "So pretend you're Hermione."

"This going somewhere perfectly sane," he whispered but he knew I could hear him.

"Shut it and listen to me."

Malfoy turned over, his eyes glowing in the dark. He propped his head up on his arm.

"If you were Hermione... and let's just say I'm agreeing to your 'be nice' plan... what would you, I mean, what would you want someone to do for you?"

"If I were Hermione. I don't know, you could open doors for me."

"Open doors?"

"Yeah – and ask me how my day was and pull out my chair in class. Bring me flowers, write me letters... and tell me I'm beautiful."

I paused, then said with a smirk, "You're beautiful, Brax."

"I'm just trying to help." He rolled his eyes.

"Doors, letters, chairs, flowers, compliments. Did I miss anything?"

Malfoy sighed and turned over. "No. You didn't miss anything."

_Yet Another Plan: Be Nice_

The next day, I conjured up a bouquet of flowers and wrote a short note on a piece of parchment, that placed between the red blossoms. The note read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm sorry for the way I've acted. And for not being honest about how I feel._

_Yours,_

_T.M.R_

I asked Malfoy what I should write and he said that people like to know you're listening to them and that you, oh what was the word, empathize with them. That you know what it is to walk in their shoes.

"_You want me to steal her shoes?"_

"_I meant metaphorical shoes, Riddle." Malfoy laughed._

I found one of the house elves and asked them to deliver the flowers to the Gryffindor dormitories. Then, I headed off to potions.

Malfoy was already there, seated beside Hermione. She was laughing at something he said.

"Good morning, Hermione," I said as I sat down beside her. "How was your evening?"

Her brow furrowed. "Nice, after you left."

The desire to fight back bit at my tongue but I suppressed it. "That's good to hear."

She leaned over to Malfoy. "Is he alright?"

"He's making an effort. Maybe you could do the same."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Let's just do our potions work, okay?" She started flipping through her book.

At least I had some success – for once she wasn't attacking me. Ignoring me was a step in the right direction.

After potions was over, I hurried to the door to make sure I could hold it open for her as she exited. She didn't say anything but stared at me, confusion drenching her features.

"I think it's sort of working," whispered Malfoy.

"Yeah."

_Foolproof Plan._

I kept up the nice act for the next few weeks. Hermione was becoming fast friends with Malfoy, which worked to my advantage. She never said a word about the flowers and notes but I sent them anyway – and she seemed to be _warming _to me.

In a game against Hufflepuff, she actually sat next to me (there was a "one foot of empty space between us rule" but still) and we watched Malfoy catch the snitch once again. She dropped her books in the hallway and I helped pick them up.

It was a warm autumn day and Malfoy talked Hermione into having lunch with us outside. After an entire potions class of convincing, she finally agreed.

"Nice day, isn't it?" I said, taking a drink of pumpkin juice.

"I love the fall." Hermione breathed, looking out over the wind-swept grounds, as the fallen leaves danced over the browning grass.

"Me too," replied Malfoy, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Oh – no. I forgot. I have, uh, a meeting, with Professor... Dumbledore... I've got to go." He snatched his books off the ground and hurried up the hill.

"That was weird," said Hermione, lying back on the grass. Slowly, I laid down beside her. I could see her tense but I didn't take this as a bad sign because being near to her made me tense as well.

"I knew some kids at the orphanage who would play this game where they would try to see shapes in the clouds," I said.

"A lot of kids play that game."

"Did you?"

She turned her head and looked at me. "No. They're just clouds."

"That's what I said."

Hermione sat up and I followed her. "That one kind of looks like a bunny."

Our eyes locked. "No it doesn't," I said.

"No it doesn't." Hermione swallowed, her pink lips twitching. She was looking at me, her curly hair blowing back, her cheeks beautifully blushed, her uniform clinging tightly to her body.

Feeling like every inch of me was on fire, I leaned in, ready to capture her mouth with mine. To complete my plan. But before I could, a sharp slap rang in my ears and burned my cheek. My mouth fell open with surprise. Hermione jumped to her feet, an anger like nothing I'd ever seen before burned in her eyes. Hate radiated from her like she was made of it.

"You disgust me. I know what you _really_ are and don't ever forget it. Just the thought of you makes my skin crawl. I will never, ever want you."

_Nobody wanted me._

Before I could react, she took off running for the castle, and suddenly the hate was mine. Filling me up, consuming me. That stupid mudblood could not speak to me that way. Merlin, I hated her... I wanted to hurt. I picked up my bottle of pumpkin juice and threw it as hard as I could against the trunk of a nearby tree, shattering it into a million pieces.

With my face flush with anger, I stood, gripping my wand. This was over. I didn't have time to play games with her anymore.

_The final plan: Kill her._

**A/N: So this is a longer chapter than the others so far but I hoped you enjoyed watching Tom obsess over how best to torture Hermione. And I hope your enjoying Abraxas Malfoy's character. He's different than Malfoy's are usually portrayed but there's a reason for it. Thanks for all the reviews and favorites and follows. Please keep reviewing and review if you haven't. Thanks everyone!**


	6. Slug Club

I didn't tell Malfoy about my plan. Not because I didn't trust him, or because I thought he would hate me if I did, but because I knew he would find a way to talk me out of it – and that was the last thing I wanted.

I had a plan but this one was foolproof. It wasn't about emotions, or torture, or screwing around. It was about get in, kill her, and get out. She may have been good at spells but she had a weakness and I already knew it.

She liked to play the hero.

I saw it when we were at the dress shop. Even though she knew it was impossible and that she would die too, Hermione had to save the shopkeeper. If it wasn't for me, she would already be dead. Now it was time to undo my mistake.

And here is the thing about heroes. They're reckless. They'll fight when they know they shouldn't, when they know they can't win. Even if it will kill them. And if Hermione tried to take me in a fight there was no way she'd win.

Because I was prepared to use it. _Avada Kedavra._

Earlier that day, I stole a Gryffindor scarf from a first year and was waiting for the half-giant boy who would always come by the entrance alone and late at night. I stood behind one of the statues, biding my time. Eventually, the boy lumbered around the corner. As quietly as possible, and with the scarf wrapped around my neck, I walked up behind him, hiding behind his large girth. When he said the password, I followed him in unnoticed.

He turned around, his eyes wide. "Hey – you're not a-"

"Petrificus Totalus," I said casually. The giant boy seized up and fell back with an enormous thud on the persian rug.

Now the founders spelled the girl's dormitories to keep out the boys but it wasn't the most genius of all their spells. I had tested it out in the Slytherin dormitories the previous few days. All it took was a simple gender changing potion. They were mostly used for tricks and jokes and only lasted about five seconds but that was five seconds you could use to walk through the threshold and into the girl's dormitories.

But I never got there.

The petrified boy and I were not alone in the common room. Sitting under the window, starlight sprinkling over her, was Hermione, her knees tucked into her chest.

She looked up at me, eyes bloodshot. Tears poured down her cheeks, leaving wet red trails.

I clinched my fist around my wand, my eyes searching for her wand, but her hands were empty. Something unsettling swept over me, an emotion I'd never felt. I had no idea what to call it but there was a heavy dullness between my ribs. Like a _heartache._

Hermione stared at me. She knew what I had in my hands but she didn't move to defend her self. She never said a word. There was more pain and sadness and confusion in her face than in anything I'd ever seen. She was true, raw, unbridled _hurt. _The kind of hurt that paralyzed.

Against my better judgment, my wand lowered, that aching dullness spreading out, drawing me closer. I slid down the wall beside her. My hand lifted but not to cause her more pain. No that strange dullness moved to my arms and the only thing that made them feel any better was placing my hand on Hermione's back. _Touching her. _

I had come there to kill her but, in that moment, I knew I never would.

That evening, I returned to the Slytherin Common Room which had been vacated by all the other students who must have been tucked away in their rooms. With a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach, I laid down on the couch, breathing in the scent of the fire that had nearly flickered out. I drifted to sleep before long.

"Aw. How adorable. Riddle's so sweet," a mock-child's voice rang in my ear. My eyes fluttered open. It was Avery. He had blonde hair like Malfoy but none of his warmth or kindness.

"_Oh, please don't cry. You're so beautiful. Don't cry._" Lestrange laughed. By this time, I was awake enough to realize what was going on. _"_Tom Riddle, a love sick little puppy talking in his sleep."

I launched off the couch, anger boiling through me. My arm collided with Lestrange's throat and slammed him against wall.

"Shut – up," I snarled.

Behind me Avery said, "Riddle's trying to be all big and bad again. Like that's going to-"

I fished for my wand in the pocket of my cardigan and pointed it at Avery. The cruciatus curse was on the tip of my tongue when Malfoy came sliding around the corner, stopping directly between us.

"Hey Tom," he said, pretending not to know what was going on, but I knew he did because he never called me Tom. "We're late for class."

I didn't budge I was too focused on hurting Avery and Lestrange – making them pay for what they said about me.

"We have potions now. Come on." His grey eyes locked with my blue ones as he placed a hand on my forearm.

"Fine." I walked with Malfoy to the door then turned around and said, "This isn't over."

Once we were in the bustling corridor, Malfoy tried to get my mind off what had happened with Avery and Lestrange. Of all his talents, his most acute was his ability to distract people. Even me.

"I forgot to give you this," said Malfoy, reaching into the pocket of his cloak. He handed me a letter. "It's an invitation to this year's Slug Club. First meeting Thursday night."

"Wonderful." I rolled my eyes and pocketed the invitation, suddenly realizing I had left the room with none of my school things. "Dammit."

"What?"

"I forgot my potion's book."

Malfoy laid a hand on my shoulder. "You can borrow mine."

With that, we walked the rest of the way to the Potion's classroom where I found Hermione sitting in the back corner, her head down.

_I wonder if she's in the Slug Club._

Between classes and a mind filled with Hermione Granger, Thursday came faster than I thought it would. For the most part, I found Slug Club an absolute waste of time but then again, there were moments when a drunken Slughorn would disclose bits of secret dark magic that I may not have found any other way. So hoping I'd be privy to a bit more of this old man's insight via a good impression, I dressed in my charcoal suit.

Slughorn expected everyone to wear their absolute best because that was what happened in exclusive clubs... it made it feel _more exclusive. _So I did. So did Malfoy. But his suit was, let's just say, a little nicer than mine. That's what happens when you're from one of the richest wizarding families in the world.

Malfoy was standing in front of the mirror in his crisp, perfectly-pressed black italian suit. His shirt was the whitest white I'd ever seen and it made his snake shaped belt buckle shimmer even brighter. A thin green tie hung untied around his neck. He tried to tie it but the knot kept slipping.

I laughed, as I leaned in the doorframe watching him struggle.

He turned around, his bottom lip pouting out. "Why can I never do this?"

I shook my head and walked over to him. My fingers grasped the tie and started working it into the perfect triangle knot. "You know there is a spell for this."

Malfoy sighed. "You don't use a spell."

I looked up at him, one of my eyebrows raised. "Because I know how to tie a tie." My fingers pulled the knot tight around his neck.

"Thanks," he said.

"Let's get this over with."

"Promise me, you'll try and have a good time." Malfoy opened the door for me.

I squinted, a smirk on my face. "Are there going to be other people there?"

"Yes..."

"Then what chance is there that I'll have a good time?"

When we finally arrived at Slughorn's party, there were people everywhere, much to my chagrin. As you've probably guessed, I'm not a fan of parties and people making a fuss, but there were bright lights and silver trays full of food. Happy, bouncing music, people dancing and Slughorn laughing heartily in the far corner. He waved us over when he saw me walk in.

He took my hand in his large one and shook it. "Enjoying the party, Tom, my boy?"

"Oh, yes. Very much so, Professor," I lied, not even very convincingly because Slughorn never took the time to notice.

"You should try the salmon," said Slughorn. "It's to die for."

I smiled. "I will sir."

_I hate salmon._

He hiccuped, which made me happy because that meant he was already drunk and it was likely, if I played my cards right, I was going to get an unapproved lesson in the dark arts.

"We've got a new member this year. Over there. Hermione Granger."

My heart dropped.

Across the room, Hermione leaned against the wall, her eyes downcast. There seemed to be a sadness, a darkness hanging around her that I never noticed before.

_Because it wasn't there before._

When I had met her, she had been all strength and fire and sass, and now she just looked sad... done. I should have felt pleasure in her defeat but instead, a sick part of me wanted to make her pain go away. I had never felt that way before and had no idea what was happening to me.

_You were happening to me..._

Malfoy seemed to notice the same thing, and though I could hear Slughorn talking, I wasn't really understanding any of the words. I just wasn't in the mood to play a part for him...

"That's great," I said, having no idea what I was actually saying that to and walked away.

Malfoy had confusion written on his face but it quickly faded. After six years, he was used to my mood swings. He didn't understand them but he knew what they were when they came and he never made me explain.

I found a dark corner with a leather chair and sat down in it, just grasping my wand in my hand, studying the curve of the wood. Every once and awhile, I'd lift my head to watch Hermione, who had not moved.

"I wonder what's wrong with her," said Malfoy as he sat on the chair's arm rest, a glass of firewhiskey in his hand.

"I don't know."

"You kind of miss the crazy girl who kept telling you to 'go to hell', don't you?"

"No," I said, but Malfoy smiled because he knew I was lying.

"I'll bet she's still in there somewhere... you know what she needs?"

"What?" I growl.

"Same thing you do but you won't admit to it. Fun."

I took Malfoy's glass of firewhiskey and drained it dry. Grinning, he pulled his wand out of his pocket and slid off the edge of the chair. He flicked his wand at the enchanted radio and the music turned up.

Like he was under the imperius curse, he started dancing right there on the floor. His mother had a secret affinity for Fred Astaire and taught her son how to dance when he was young. So Malfoy was graceful, light and in control.

With a laugh, spun across the floor, grabbed Hermione's hand, and with her eyes widened, he twirled her onto the floor.

"Do you know how to dance?" he asked her.

Still looking stunned, she answered. "I don't – well, a little."

He spun he around and dipped her. Her long hair flowed out around her and for the first time since the day she slapped me, I saw a smile grow on her face and deep perfect red blush on her cheeks. A light cutting through the darkness.

Warmness flooded my chest and I pushed it away, holding tightly to the cold that always consumed me.

Malfoy was smiling and Hermione was dancing and I could tell she was lying about only being able to dance a little because she floated perfectly over the floor, like a feather, and everyone was watching her, including Avery and Lestrange, which pissed me off – and Slughorn was grinning ear to ear – and all the girls were looking at Hermione like she was the luckiest girl in the world and I just couldn't take it anymore.

I shot to my feet and darted out of the door, catching my breath once I was safe in the dark empty corridor.

I could have gone back to the dorms. Or back to the party under the guise of having had to use the bathroom. Instead I spent the next hour pacing the hall. A part of me was surprised Malfoy didn't come looking for me. But I often disappeared without explanation, why would this time be any different.

_...look for me...someone look for me..._

I was sitting on the floor, going over some new curses in my head, when I heard familiar voices talking.

"You know... I don't get it." It was Hermione.

"Get what?" There was a laugh in Malfoy's voice.

"How a good guy like you is friends with an asshole like Tom Riddle."

"He's really not that bad. You should give him a chance."

Hermione let out a loud guffaw. "I will never give Riddle a chance."

Against my will, my stomach twisted at her words. Why did I care whether she approved of me or not? I'd never cared what anyone thought before.

"What is your problem with him?"

"He's -"

"You're going to say Satan." Malfoy sighed.

"No," she said. "I was going to say he's the guy that runs into the convenience store to get Satan a pack of cigarettes... sorry, I can't help it.

_If there is one thing you know how to do it's insult me._

"Hermione – he's my friend."

"Why?"

Malfoy paused. "Because he needs one – and because he's kept a pretty huge secret for me so he's earned my trust."

"At what costs does he keep that secret of yours?"

Malfoy groaned. "There's no cost.. he just keeps it because he keeps it."

"What'd you do kill someone? Because that's the kind of secret I'm sure Tom Riddle can get behind -"

"I like men, Hermione."

"Murder and – _what did you say_?"

I finally caught a glimpse of them. Malfoy pushed Hermione against the wall, grabbing her shoulders. "I like men... as in I _fancy _them," he whispered hoarsely.

"Oh."

"And I'm not sure how it is where you come from but here it's not exactly an accepted thing. Especially because I'm a Malfoy and Malfoy's produce pure blood heirs."

"Why do you think you can trust me with this secret?"

He shook his head, looking down. "You're a muggleborn. I imagine you know how it feels to be hated because of who you are."

"Even so." Hermione's face was scrunched up, like she was trying to think too many things at once. "Why him?"

Malfoy let out a heavy sigh and his eyes locked with Hermione's. He said nothing. But she spoke for him.

"You're in _love _with him."

Malfoy didn't argue so I just sat there, staring. Not sure what to think.

_I had no idea..._

"You can't say anything to him," he breathed. "I'm not delusional. I know he doesn't feel that way about me but I can't-"

"Help how you feel either," she answered, her eyes cast down.

"Please Hermione."

She smiled and slipped away from Malfoy's grasp, straightening out her dress. "Your secret's safe with me. Both your secrets."

With that, she headed back into Slughorn's party and Malfoy turned and disappeared into the darkness. I sat there in the hallway a while longer thinking of what I'd just heard.

_He loved me._

It was the first time anyone had ever said that.

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows. Let me know what you think of this chapter. Sorry it's taking a bit to get to the whole "romance" between Tom and Hermione but I think there needs to be a slow build for it to believable but if you can bear with me a few more chapter I promise you'll get all the Tomione you could want. I hope it's worth the wait. If you can't tell, this story is also about friendship, forgiveness and learning to open up and let people in. Thanks again**


	7. Halloween

I wandered the halls for a while after Slughorn's party. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't avoiding Malfoy – or at least not for the reasons one would think. I just felt jittery and oddly nervous. I needed a chance to walk it off, to calm down.

Eventually, I made my way back through the dungeons to the Slytherin common room. There was no one there but I did not make the mistake of sitting down again and possibly falling asleep. Not after I had apparently started talking in my sleep.

I quietly opened the bedroom door, hoping not to wake Malfoy, if he was even there. I smiled when I saw him under the covers, just his head peeking out from the plush down comforter. He was snoring softly and, for reasons I still can't explain, I stood there watching him breathe, looking so peaceful and calm.

_The one person who ever loved me._

After changing out of my suit, I crawled into bed in my boxers and drifted to sleep.

The next morning I woke up early and found Malfoy still passed out in his bed. I dressed, grabbed my stuff for class and headed to the common room. Once again, it was empty and the sun was just peeking over the horizon. I hadn't realized how early I woke up.

A house elf was scurrying around cleaning the room. My stomach grumbled.

"Excuse me," I said.

The house elf stopped and looked at me with huge terrified eyes. "Y-yes sir."

"Is there any chance you'd get me something to eat?" I asked.

"Um, sir. We're not supposed-"

My eyes narrowed. "I know I phrased that as a question but-"

"Yes, sir."

The house elf cracked out of the room and second later appeared in front of me with a rather large muffin on a plate.

"Does this please, Master?"

I sighed. "That'll do. Thank you." As I took the plate, I heard a yawn and turned my head to see Malfoy walking toward me, his hair a total mess and wearing just sleep bottoms and grey T-shirt. He stretched his arm over his head, exposing a small sliver of his abdomen. "Good morning, Hazel." He smiled at the house elf.

She batted her big eyelashes and twiddled her thumbs. "G-good morning, Mr. Malfoy."

"I've told you before. You can call me Brax"

"Yes, sir...Hazel has to go finish her duties."

"Okay. Happy Halloween." Malfoy grinned.

She blushed, giggled then disappeared from the room. Malfoy collapsed down on the couch beside me.

"Even the house elves have it bad for you." I smirked.

"Shut up." He elbowed me.

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked Malfoy.

"Checking on you. I was afraid you fell asleep out here again and I didn't want a repeat of the other night."

My fingers cracked the large muffin in half. I was hungry enough to eat the whole thing, but for some reason I said, "Do you want the other half?"

Malfoy's eyes widened. "Do _I _want the other half of _your_ muffin?"

Staring down at the muffin, I mumbled, "It's blueberry. If you don't want it-"

Chuckling, Malfoy grabbed the other half and took a bite. "I have to take a shower." He walked back down the hall, pulling his shirt off on the way. "We'll go to breakfast when I get dressed?"

I nodded, glad at the suggestion since I really was hungry enough to eat that whole muffin.

We went to breakfast and, I'd like to say I wasn't looking for Hermione, but I was. She was nowhere to be seen. Then Malfoy and I went to Potions and she wasn't there either. Malfoy thought maybe she was sick. I felt a twinge of guilt at my fixation on Hermione when I knew how Malfoy felt about me. I searched for a sign that it bothered him but couldn't find one.

We were late to transfiguration and I quickly noticed that Professor Dumbledore, who always took an opportunity to scowl at me when I walked in, was no where to be found. Just jolly old Armando Dippet. But what was the headmaster doing there?

Then I saw her. Across the room. Her hair twisted up in a knot, one loose tendril spiraling down her neck. I stopped dead in my tracks but Malfoy just walked up to Hermione.

"Happy Halloween, Hermione. Can I sit here?" he asked, smiling.

Hermione's eyes lifted to mine. "Does that mean he's sitting with us too?"

"Yes," I said.

She rolled her eyes. "Lovely."

Malfoy sat down next to Hermione and I sat down next Malfoy.

Dippet cleared his voice and spoke, "Afternoon, class. Professor Dumbledore had an urgent meeting at the Ministry and will not be available to teach today. So I'll be your substitute today. Apparently, Professor Dumbledore planned a Halloween themed assignment for you today. You're to be transfiguring bats into jack-o-lanterns. The transfiguration of a living thing is highly advanced magic so do be careful." From under a sheet, Dippet displayed an iron cage full of flapping bats and started passing the cage around from student to student.

I wouldn't have called transfiguring bats a highly advanced magic, but then again, I had real experience with actual advanced, and sometimes dark, magic. Still I understood that a lot could wrong if you didn't know what you were doing.

When it got to Hermione, she unflinchingly grabbed one of the creatures. Then she pushed the cage to Malfoy whose lip raised in disgust.

"Take one," said Hermione with a nod and smile that made my heart skip.

Malfoy bit his lips, creating a little white moon imprint on the pink flesh. "They're kind of flappy and squirmy."

I chuckled. "Flappy and squirmy?"

"Well they are." He reached out to open the cage but his hand quickly retreated.

Shaking my head, I grabbed two bats out of the cage and handed one to him. "Here you are."

Malfoy's eyes widened. "I feel like I'm going to hurt it."

Hermione scooted closer to him. I couldn't help but notice that the movement pushed her skirt a little bit further up her legs. My face flushed. "You're not going to hurt it," she said. "Just hold it gently like a baby bird."

"I've never held a baby bird," he said.

I placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He shut his eyes. "Imagine that you have, Brax. You'll be fine," I whispered.

As Malfoy struggled with his bat, I pulled my wand out and flicked it at the bat, quietly speaking the incantation. With a snap, the bat morphed into a round orange pumpkin with a snake carved into it. A second later, Hermione's bat turned into a tall pumpkin with something that looked like a lightning bolt.

Still cringing at the squirming bat that now had a stem growing out of its head, Malfoy said, "I need dumber friends."

"You could always go join Lestrange over there." I laughed. Lestrange had engorged his bat and somehow managed to tangle it up in a knot.

"Merlin – what is he doing to that poor thing?" Hermione's eyes suddenly flashing to mine but quickly snapping away.

"I don't think that's where its foot is supposed to go," said Malfoy. He flicked his wand again and the bat turned orange.

"Just concentrate, Brax." Hermione said, her voice as clear as textbook. But that wasn't the help Malfoy needed. His face was already bright red and scrunched in concentration.

"No he needs to relax."

"It works better if you focus. According to the textbook-"

I rolled my eyes. "The textbook is wrong Granger."

"And how would you know, Riddle?" Her eyes ignited and her cheeks blushed – and it took every amount of restraint not to jump across the table and kiss her until she couldn't talk anymore. But instead I just said,

"I transfigured my bat faster than you did."

"I got distracted," replied Hermione.

"By what?"

She sat up straighter, like she had a string holding her neck up. "There was a … fly buzzing... in my ear."

Malfoy was slowly raising his wand and mumbling.

Hermione sighed and grabbed Malfoy's hand, trying to guide him. "You're flicking too slowly."

"He's flicking fine. It's his enunciation." I grabbed Hermione's hand to pull it off of Malfoy's – and a rush of unwelcome desire exploded through my body. Our eyes connected and she swallowed. I could feel her pulse quickening under my fingers.

"It's not my flicking or my enunciation, it's you two idiots!" Malfoy shouted then took deep breath. "Sorry – I'm just stressed out."

At the same time, Hermione and I slumped back in our chairs.

"Go on – transfigure," I said. Malfoy blinked a few times, then relaxed his shoulders. He spoke the incantation while flicking his wand. The bat transformed into the smallest of the three pumpkins carved with a classic smiling face.

After class, Malfoy said, "I've got a free period," as we stepped into the hall.

"Arithmancy," Hermione and I replied at the same time.

"See you tonight, Riddle. Hermione." Malfoy held his books to his chest, turning on his heel and walking toward the dungeons.

I started toward arithmancy. Hermione walked next to me.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"What are you doing?"

"Walking to class." She shrugged.

"Me too." Her whole body slumped like it was the worse new she'd ever heard. "We have the same class."

"Yeah. I'm surprised this hasn't happened to us before."

I felt awkward. I wasn't sure where to put my hands or how to walk. It was like my body was betraying me as it subconsciously tried to impress her.

There was a long pause. "You did a good job with your, uh, bat," said Hermione.

"You're complimenting me?"

"Don't make me regret it," she growled as we made it to the classroom door.

"We wouldn't want that," I said, a devious plan coming to my mind. "You ready for the test today?"

Hermione's eyes widened. Her ears blazing red. "What test? Oh no I -" Her voice became high and frantic.

It rose up in me like a geyser. A warm, hearty laugh. It sounded like it came from someone else."I'm kidding."

Hermione elbowed me in the ribs, sending a jolt of pain with the thrill of her though.

"Ow," I mumbled, rubbing the spot where she'd hit me that was sure to leave a bruise.

"Not funny," she said and I followed her into the classroom.

"What do you care? You seem to already know all this stuff anyway."

Hermione sighed. "I still can't expect to do well if I don't work hard and study."

"Of course not."

She sat down and I flopped down in the seat next to her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking even more flustered than in the hallway. It was getting exhausted fighting her on everything. She was a distraction and I needed to find some sort of truce we could both agree to.

"We seem to be sharing a best friend, at current, so we might as well try to find a way to get along," I said.

Hermione's face contorted in confusion. "You consider Brax a friend?"

"Of course I do."

She opened up her arithmancy textbook. "Fine. But don't take this as an indication that I like you – because I don't."

"Understood."

Hermione looked me square in the eye – an act that made the room spin. "We're not friends but we won't, you know, plan to murder each other."

Thinking of what she would feel like sitting on my lap with her arms around my neck, but trying not to, I said, "Agreeable terms." Then forced myself to look away.

I didn't see Hermione for the rest of the day. There was a ghoulish excitement in the air as the school prepared for the Halloween feast. When it was time to eat, Malfoy and I headed through the crowd to the great hall.

My eyes scanned the floating the jack-o-lanterns above our heads and the tables were covered in brightly-colored selection of foods and sweets.

"I'm starving," said Malfoy, rubbing his hands together.

As soon as we sat down on the far side of the Slytherin table, Malfoy grabbed a fudge brownie with sprinkles on it and took a huge bite.

"Aren't you supposed to eat – you know- _food _first?"

Malfoy just glared at me, his pale cheeks puffed with his giant bite of brownie.

All the other students were laughing and chatting eagerly, enjoying the feast. But my eyes just searched the crowd for the curly hair and big brown eyes that made me feel things I didn't even know existed.

"What's going on?" a high-pitched voice asked. I turned around.

"Hermione?" My heart leapt into my throat and I had to swallow it back down.

Jittering, Hermione knelt down behind Malfoy and I, her wand grasped in her hand so tightly her fingers were turning white.

"What do you mean 'what's going on'?" asked Malfoy, his mouth still full.

"Where's the staff?" she asked.

My head automatically snapped to the front of the Great Hall. The table where the staff members normally sat against the large window was empty. Even Dippet was absent.

"I have no idea," I said.

"So this isn't your doing?"

"No. Of course not." My eyes narrowed. Why did she always think it was me? Tiring really...

"I have a bad feeling." Hermione sighed, her wand shaking nervously in her hand.

There was a high pitch squeal and a bat swooped down out of the sky, barely missing the top of our heads. First thing I thought was that one of the bats from transfiguration escaped.

_Later I would discover that I was right._

The bat flew up to where Dippet normally sat and then, with a shocking snap and swirling cloud of black mist, the bat transformed. A lanky man with sunken eyes and slicked back black hair sat in Dippet's chair, dressed in a black velvet victorian suit, his spindly fingers adorned with large shimmering rings.

"Get down," I said as my heart started to pound. "We need to get down." I tugged on Malfoy's arm and slid under the table.

"What the-" I heard Hermione say. Malfoy reached up and covered her mouth and I pulled her under the table with us.

"This is bad," I said. "He's a vampire."

"It's worse than bad," said Malfoy.

"Shut up for a second," whispered Hermione. "Vampires have excellent hearing." She flicked her wand and said, "Muffliato."

"What was that? I don't know that spell," I said quickly. How did this girl know a spell I did not? "What does it do?"

"Makes it so other people can't hear us talk... now why is this worse than bad?"

"That's no regular vampire," replied Malfoy. "My father used to work in the Department of Magical Creatures. He was a senior liaison to the vampires. I've seen that one before. He doesn't believe that witches and wizards should have authority over their species. He thinks the Ministry should be run by people like him – the immortals."

"Let's see how immortal he is when I put a stake through his heart," I barked.

"Good luck with that," said Malfoy. "He's had plenty of stakes through his heart. Somehow he just keeps coming back.

It took everything inside of me not to ask how he managed the feat as my mind started swirling with the thoughts I'd mostly forgotten. The ones I'd found after the bombing.

_I didn't want to die._

Hermione's hand jutted out and grasped Malfoy's arm. "Brax – _who is he_?"

"Father just called him the Count."

"_The _Count? Count Dracula?"

Malfoy swallowed. "Yes."

The Great Hall doors squealed open and, for a second, I thought it was Dippet and Slughorn or, hell, I wouldn't have even minded Dumbledore but then I heard the Count speak.

"Good. Yes, lovely. My friends have decided to join us for this... feast. They do so enjoy the taste of magical blood."

My stomach lurched. One part of me sick. The other part of me viciously angry.

Hermione's head leaned back and hit the bench. "We're all going to die."

"We're not going to die. We'll sneak out of here. The three of us," I said.

"No. We won't."

She was _not _doing this to me again. I risked my life for one of her suicide rescue missions before and it was never happening again.

"Malfoy and I are going to try and get out of the school far enough to apparate. You can come or you can not. It's up to you."

With terror coursing through me the likes of which I've only just been able to admit, I grabbed Malfoy's wrist. I had been practicing a spell that made me invisible for weeks now. It only worked for about fifteen seconds but if we used that fifteen seconds wisely...

"Do you want to go back to the Orphanage?"

I looked back at Hermione. "No. What-"

"If this happens tonight, whatever this is, if a whole bunch of people die. They will shut down the school. Trust me."

"What are you saying?" I snapped.

"That you have a perfectly acceptable selfish reason for doing something noble and brave."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Malfoy.

Breathing in a deep breath, that sweet, curved facing of hers growing hard and determined. A look that made me shiver down to my feet. "Both of you give me something of yours – anything – hurry."

I pulled a silver ring I'd stolen from some kid at the orphanage years ago off my pinky and handed it to Hermione. Malfoy reached into his pocket and gave her a galleon. Hermione took off her bracelet and laid the three items neck to each other one floor. She swished her wand and the items turned into three sharp wooden stakes. We each picked one up.

"Brax – you look for the staff. Start with Dippet's office," commanded Hermione. "I'll try to get as many students out of here as possible while you," she looked at me and our eyes held. For the second time in our lives, Hermione and I experienced a powerful moment of solidarity, of mutual understanding.

_It will happen only two more times in this tale._

I gripped the transfigured stake in my hand. "I'll take out as many of the blood-sucking bastards as I can. Petrificus totalus and a stick."

**A/N: Thank you for reading. I appreciate all the reviews and favorites I've gotten recently. I try to get back with everyone who review personally so if you have any ideas, comments, questions or concerns please let me know. Also, I thought it would be fun to reflect the first HP in this chapter. Rowling said that Hermione, Ron and Harry needed something big to get them to come together which was the troll on Halloween - so I wanted to pay tribute to that. Anyway, please read, review, favorite and follow. You all are the best!**


	8. The Count

I cast my invisibility spell on Malfoy so he could get to the door to search for Dippet and the other professors. Hermione slipped out from under the table. Her plan was to get the students out of the Great Hall and back into their dormitories where the vampires could not follow.

It was my job to create a distraction then try and fend off as many of the vampires as I could. A part of me hoped some of the other students would figure out what I was doing and help fight. But I was not counting on it.

Hermione kicked me under the table and I took it for the signal. With a deep breath, I slid out from under the bench, pointed my wand at a female vampire with straight blonde hair and shouted "Petrificus Totalus."

Her thin body seized up but did not fall back. Magic did not have as strong an effect on vampires as did on normal humans. In a couple of seconds, the charm wore off and the vampire leaped at me, snarling.

"Petrificus Totalus," I shouted again, pushing back the fear. Immediately, my hand thrust the stake into her heart. Once again the vampire froze, but this time her eyes turned white and her skin greyed and cracked. She collapsed on the ground, looking like a corpse that had been rotting for months.

"A feisty one," said the Count who didn't seem at all bothered by the loss of one of his followers. I ignored his taunts and sent the cruciatus curse flying at a vampire that was too far away for me to stake. He let out a shrill shriek and fell back, writhing.

"Riddle!" shouted Hermione. "That's an unforgivable."

"You're joking?" I scoffed and started running toward the disoriented vamp I'd just crucioed. This not the time to be prudent about what kind of spells we were using.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Hermione climb on top of the table. She aimed her wand at the locked door and shouted, "Alohomora, Redacto."

Not only did the doors unlock but they blew off their hinges. "Get to your dorms. Wands out!" screamed Hermione who ran across the table top and jumped down beside me.

An older looking vamp with long white hair streaked up to us, its fangs out, snarling, a lifeless look of ferocity painted on its sharp features. I lifted my wand to send a hex but Hermione had already held out her stake and the idiot vampire ran right into it. His body shriveled up and smacked the floor.

"That's enough. We had no plans on killing all of you... so if you know what's good for you, you will stop this and accept your fate," hissed the Count.

Some of the students paused and the ones terrified enough to do it were grabbed by the nearest vampires. Hermione and I both shot spells but before they hit, the vamps had already sunk their fangs into the student's necks.

A ginger-haired male threw one of the girls on the floor, cracking her skull open. The vampire crouched down, his tongue out like he was going to lick up the blood. I was all of a sudden thankful I had gotten Malfoy out of the Great Hall.

Hermione gasped. "Stupefy!" knocking the vampire on his side but the hex wouldn't last for long.

The vampires approached us, fangs glinting, eyes sparking. They looked wild, feral. My heart pounded and instinctively, I stepped closer to Hermione – the back of her hand against the back of my hand.

An idea burst into my head. "The ceiling," I rushed. "It's enchanted... it only looks like the sky – but it's really."

"Wood," said Hermione. "Where'd you?"

"Hogwarts: A History," I said. We were back to back now, a powerful energy surging between us. Magic mixed with intelligence mixed with whatever strange connection we seemed to have.

"It won't kill them but it will stun them momentarily. Wood is like poison to them."

Hermione nodded and, at the same time, we raised our wands and yelled, "Redacto!"

There was a horrible creaking sound and then the roof caved in. Shards of wood careened down from above us. Splinters and pieces of sharp wood dug into my skin but we could keep running. The vampires, however, were screaming and writhing, clawing the floor desperately.

Hermione and I stood at the back of the group of students that were pushing their way through the open doors. It was possible some of the vampires had already escaped into the main area of the school but most were still in the Great Hall.

A large crack rang through the hall and there was a cloud of black dust as the Count transformed into a bat and swept over our heads.

"Dang it," said Hermione.

"Well get him later," I said, unsure of whether or not there was any truth to that statement.

As the real night sky was now revealed, five vampires struggled to their feet, picking wood from their flesh as they stumbled toward us. I looked over my shoulder. The other students still blocked the door. There was no where to run.

_Damn._

When Hermione raised her wand, I expected her to hex one of the vamps but instead she pointed it at one of the windows and shouted, "Lumos Maxima." The light reflected off the glass and bounced across all of the five vampires causing them to grimace in pain. I did the same thing and both Hermione and I started casting Lumos Maxima at every window in the room until the entire hall filled with bright light and the painful screams of the vampires. My heart pounded with excitement. We were finally getting somewhere with this crazy plan of hers.

We bought enough time for the crowd to thin. Hermione and I raced into the hallway. Five vampires were lying back, unmoving, just as grey and corpse-like as the first one I'd killed.

_Thank Merlin._

Hermione looked at me. "I'll go this way – you go that way?"

I nodded, and held our gazes for a moment. "See if we can find Malfoy." With that I streamed down the hall toward the dungeons, shoving my way through the students looking for the pale face of a vampire or the cries of its victim.

"No! Please no!" someone screamed. I rushed toward the noise to see a second-year Hufflepuff huddled in the corner as a black haired woman sunk her teeth into his neck.

"Petrificus Totalus!" I shouted. The vampire hardened and tumbled backwards. I ran as fast as I could and just as the vampire blinked and lunged at me, I stabbed the stake through its heart.

"Th-thank you," mumbled the hufflepuff grabbing the small wounds on his neck.

"Go. Get out of here!" I shouted.

There was no sign of the professors or of Malfoy – and a horrible feeling settled in my stomach. What if the teachers were dead and I had to go back to Wool's? What if Malfoy was dead - I wanted to vomit – what if I'd just lost the only person who ever cared about me? Where would I be then?

I should probably have kept to the dungeons like I said I would but Malfoy was out there somewhere and if something happened to him or his mission to get the professors, I needed to find out. Gasping for breath, I headed back out to the main part of the school. It was almost entirely empty.

"It's the littlest Malfoy," a cold voice sneered. My stomach clinched and I turned toward the sound.

I saw them down the hallway. Trembling, Malfoy was backing up, limping on his leg.

"Dumbledore is coming," said Malfoy. "I've owled him."

"Fine. No matter. At least I'll get to enjoy the purest blood in the world." The Count seized Malfoy's shoulder and bit down, blood gushing from the wounds.

"No!" I shouted and the Count lifted his eyes to mine.

"Stupefy!" It knocked him back just an inch, enough to make his teeth release Malfoy.

"Petrificus totalus." It just made him stiffen.

"Tom – leave. Please. I don't want you to-"

"I'm not leaving," I said but I had no idea why I wasn't leaving. Why I was risking myself... I'd never done anything like that before.

"Lumos Maxima," I shouted, aiming my wand at the Count's eyes. He covered them with his arm, hissing, as little blisters broke out across his linen skin. Dracula released Malfoy, giving him a chance to run to my side.

"Go. Get Hermione. Tell her about Dumbledore."

"I'm not leaving you either," breathed Malfoy but he looked pale and dizzy.

"You're hurt. Go." I squeezed Malfoy's hand and did something that stunned me more than it would have stunned anyone. Malfoy no longer had his stake. I didn't know how many other vampires were out there so I handed him mine.

"What, no!" he said.

"I'll be fine. I'll use my wand. It's wood." I smiled, feigning bravery. But as Dracula approached us, I couldn't waste anymore time. I shoved Malfoy down the hall. Looking torn, he hobbled away, briefly glancing back at me.

I was a wizard. An excellent one. I didn't need a stupid stick.

_Well technically I did... but a wand isn't exactly stupid..._

"Stupefy," I tried again. "Lumos Maxima" "Crucio" - he cringed at that one - "Imperio" I shouted.

He got a bit of dreamy look in his vampire eyes, then blinked it away. His hand with its long pointed fingernails grasped my neck and shoved me against the wall. I could feel him crushing my wind pipe. Pain shot through my body. I tried to scream but he was shutting off my air supply. My wand fell uselessly from my grip.

"Of all the spells that's the last one you should use one me. The Count covered my mouth with his other hand, ending any and all air. The world was starting to blur around me. "Now I know your deepest desires, Thomas Riddle. Your greatest fears, your fatal weaknesses." Dracula squeezed harder and I thrashed and thrashed against him but it was no use. "Interesting," he hissed. "Very interesting."

He pressed something into the pocket of the my sweater but I was too dizzy to understand what it was – or why.

There were just deep red eyes staring back into mine, burning me. Then fangs digging into my skin, draining the life from me. It was like reaching, grasping into the air, for anything to hold on to, but finding nothing but pain and slowly descending emptiness.

_At this point, I had never been more afraid. Only once in my life would I be even more so._

I felt the pressure release. I thought I was dead but I could still feel the pain, too much pain for being dead. Then I saw Dracula stumbling backwards, clawing frantically for the wood stake in his heart. He tore it from his chest, his vampire blood gushing from his body and pooling on the floor in front of me.

Wailing, he twisted into his cloud of black dust and flapped away through the open window.

I had no idea what happened, until I blinked a few times, clearing away the blurriness from the lack of blood and oxygen.

Hermione was standing there, her hair a disheveled mess, her uniform torn and her shoes covered in blood.

"Brax found me. He told me what you..."

"Is he?" I asked, trying to keep my eyes open but I just felt so tired.

"He's fine. Dumbledore's here. He's taking care of the others. Let's get you to the hospital wing."

For the first time ever, she reached out to me, her hand grasping my elbow. I tried to walk but I couldn't even feel my legs. I stumbled forward and she caught me in her arms. My weight pressed against her. It was too much to hold.

"Riddle, can you?"

I opened my mouth to try and form words but nothing came out. She sank to the floor and I followed with her, feeling the heat of blood seeping through my pants. I collapsed into her chest breathing in her familiar scent.

"I've got you," she said. "I'm right here."

Then everything went black.

**A/N: Action packed chapter. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. I'm always open to concerns, suggestions, ideas. If you have any questions about the vampires - which I seem to be getting so -I appreciate all the reviews I've gotten. Makes me write faster! Thanks again, folks!**


	9. Struck Lightning

I laid there, staring up at the ceiling, blinking the world back into focus. My head throbbed and my body sweated. A violent pain stung my neck. As my hand reached up to touch the ache, memories of Halloween night flooded back to me.

_The Vampires._

_Malfoy._

_Hermione – catching me when I fell._

"Hey," a soft voice spoke. I turned and could not believe what I saw.

"Hermione?"

Swallowing nervously, she nodded, her curls bouncing in agreement. "How badly does it hurt?"

I shrugged. "I'll live." Those were comforting words on my lips because recently I had been deeply certain I would not.

"Good," she breathed, staring down at her hands. Something shimmered in between her pink painted fingernails. "This is yours. Brax had it."

My palm opened and she placed the silver ring in the center. Slowly I slipped it back on my finger.

"I know we don't really get along," she said. "But last night what you did for-"

"Thank you."

She looked up at me, her lips pressed together in a cautious smile. "What you did for Brax – that was." Hermione drew in a deep breath, making her chest swell. She leaned over from the chair by my bed. My body tensed, hands slightly shaking. What was she-

Her gentle lips kissed my skin just a breath away from the corner of my mouth. She lingered against my cheek. My eyes fluttered shut, as my stomach twisted. It was a chaste kiss, a simple one.

_The greatest kiss of my life._

"Hey folks!" a happy voice called from the door. It was Malfoy. Hermione turned away. clearing her throat. I sat up, half-smiling, still able to feel the kiss against my skin as if it was tattooed there. "How are you?" Malfoy's big eyes were silver and wide and molten. I couldn't help but stare into them. He had a case of butterbeer tucked under his arm. "Thought you'd be thirsty?"

Brax pulled three bottles out of the carton and handed one to each of us. Hermione paused before taking hers but she sighed and grasped the frosty glass.

"Tom – I," said Malfoy, blushing. I touched his fingers. They were rougher than Hermione's but still felt nice against my skin. His eyes shut and two petals of redness flowered in his cheeks. I held my fingers against his, unable to pull away.

"Don't mention it," I whispered. "So," my voice returned to its normal level, "Did any one else get hurt?"

"There were a few injuries but they were easier to heal than yours. Probably because yours were from Count Dracula – he's obviously not a normal vampire. And there was the girl from the Great Hall," said Hermione, her face growing dark.

I remembered it clearly. The sound of a skull splitting against wood, opening, pouring out everything that had kept her alive and breathing.

_I still remember that sound._

"It could have been worse," I said. "Where were the staff?"

"Trapped in something called the – Room of Recreation or Reclusiveness," said Malfoy.

"Requirement," Hermione and I said at the same time. I'd hidden things in there before, dark objects that I didn't want anyone to know about. It was an excellent place to hide things though I was surprised Hermione had already learned of it.

"I never did find them. I just ran to the owlery and wrote Dumbledore hoping he'd get it in time and come help."

"That was an excellent idea, Brax," Hermione said.

I nodded. It was rather brilliant. Both Hermione and Malfoy had surprised me. Hell, I'd surprised myself.

"We should make a toast," said Malfoy, a brilliant smile erupting on his face.

"A toast? To what?" asked Hermione, her head slightly cocked.

Malfoy shrugged, something in his face sparking. "To Hogwarts."

Shaking my head, the three of us clinked our bottles together, playing a melodic ring. Hermione gave a little eye roll, but Malfoy had a look on his face like he knew exactly how important that moment was.

The three of us said, "To Hogwarts."

I heard a voice and jolted, nearly splashing my butterbeer onto the sheets.

"You okay?" asked Malfoy.

Across the room, I saw two other people in hospital beds. "I thought we were alone."

"It's just Lestrange and Avery."

_It's __**just**__ Lestrange and Avery... four words that would never be spoken again._

Avery's lifeless eyes peered across the room at us. More than peered. They stared.

_I should have realized he was looking at Brax. If only I had realized..._

That evening, I returned from the hospital wing, still a little sore from the bites and tired from the lack of blood. I had bruising on my neck where the fangs pierced my skin and Dracula's hands wrapped around my neck.

When I shut my eyes, I kept seeing his eyes. The red ones. Staring back at me. Like they had something to say. But why would you tell anything to a man you mean to kill?

My arms and neck ached as I struggled to remove my white T-shirt, the fabric catching on my chin. I heard Malfoy's musical laugh and felt his hands as they helped free me from the twisted cotton.

"Thanks," I said.

Malfoy nodded, then turned around, knocking into the chair stacked with my clothes from Halloween night. They fell to the floor.

"Sorry," sighed Malfoy. He picked the clothes off the ground and sat them back on the chair. A small torn piece of parchment floated down from the stack like a piece of ash. I opened my mouth to ask Malfoy to pick it up but quickly shut my lips together. I'm not sure why but I wanted to keep that unusual piece of parchment secret until I figured out what it meant.

Malfoy climbed into bed. "Want me to turn out the lights?"

"One moment." I discreetly picked up the scrap of paper and read a foreign word written in an golden ink that pulsed with magic, sending jitters up my wrist.

_Was this what Dracula had placed in my pocket?_

My eyes played over the word, over and over it, like keys on a piano.

_Horcrux._

As I slept that night, my dreams were consumed by the six letters on the enchanted parchment. What could they mean.? Was it a threat? A warning? A message? But that night all I saw in the darkness of my mind was the word and red eyes.

I was terrible company that morning at breakfast and at lunch. I wasn't even paying attention in classes. Hermione and Malfoy kept passing glances back and forth as if they expected me to explode at any moment.

But really what I wanted was to get to the end of the school day. To slip away to the library. Slughorn had given me a year long pass to get into the restricted section so that wouldn't be a problem if it became necessary.

That night I was sitting in the common room, my hands shaking from excitement. _Horcrux _was taking over my mind. I had to know. It was just a matter of how I would figure it out, but I knew I couldn't rest until I did.

Malfoy came into the common room. He'd changed out of his uniform and was wearing pressed grey pants and a light blue sweater that changed his eye color. His irises looked like two tiny robin's eggs, cracked open with black yolks.

"Coming to dinner?" he asked me. Looking back on it, it's so clear. Like glass. Though sometimes I wonder if my guilt makes me remember things differently, imagine signs that weren't there, but when I shut my eyes, this is what I see...

_Maybe if I wasn't thinking about that damn horcrux I would have seen Lestrange leering at Malfoy._

"I've got a bit of headache. I think I'm just going to stay here."

"Want me to bring you anything?"

"No, thank you."

Malfoy smiled then followed Nott and Prince, two chasers from the Slytherin team, into the hall.

I waited until I knew they were out of sight and rushed to the library.

I started with the books I knew best. _Hogwarts: A History. A Collection of Advanced Potions and Elixirs. _And _Dark Magical Creatures._

Quickly, I flipped through them and found nothing. Then I picked up every book that made reference to vampires. I found nothing except an excerpt from another book that spoke of the immortality curse on vampires but I couldn't find it in the library, at least not the public section.

I headed into the restricted section and dug through the poorly organized books until I found the one mentioned. Sitting on the floor, I flipped through the old, torn pages and found this particular excerpt.

_Two thousand years ago a dark wizard by the name of Marthius VanHausen sought to create the first potion that would restore life to the dead. He tried for years and years to no avail. This was nearly ten centuries before Nicholas Flamel would create the elixir of life with his infamous Philosopher's Stone. But even Flamel did not manage to do that which VanHausen desired. While the stone can keep those who are alive indefinitely so, it can not grant re-birth to those that have already passed from this life._

_Nearing his eightieth birthday, VanHausen fell ill with dragon pox. Fearing his impending death, he became obsessed with finding a way to return from the grave. He believed he had created a cursed potion that would do just that. Days before his death, he drank this potion which was a mixture of dragon flame, an assortment of unknown herbal ingredients and the pure-blood of a sacrificed wizards, sealed together by powerful spell cast using the energy of a ghost. _

_Now as is commonly understood within the theories of natural magical law, the taking of human life damages the soul, weakens it. Days after VanHausen consumed this potion, he died and was buried. All believed that he had failed at his mission. But soon after VanHausen's death, unexplained deaths and murders occurred within and around the cemetery in which the dark wizard was buried. Victims were found with deep puncture wounds, some with broken necks and backs, but all were found entirely drained of blood._

_Though at the time, these attacks were attributed to an increase in the werewolf population, this behavior did not ascribe to the usual nature of werewolf attacks. __**See: Werewolf Origins, page 143. **__It wasn't until several hundred years later when a portrait of VanHausen was recovered and identified as a wanted murderer of both muggles and magical people alike that the wizarding world realized that VanHausen had not failed his mission. It is believed, however, that VanHausen did not intend for the side effects of the curse such as the inability to walk in the sunlight, the dangers of wood and fire and the need to feed off human blood. __**See Vampire Defense, page 98. **_

_This next piece of information is purely speculation but many believe that VanHausen, later known by a different name, __**See Count Dracula, page 310, **__sought once again another way to preserve his life in the light of said weaknesses. VanHausen is believed to be the inventor of and the only successful creator of the darkest object known to wizarding kind, the horcrux, __**see page 418. **_

My heart pounded frantically. I had found what I had been searching for. Tripping, my fingers flipped the faded pages.

412. 415. 419

My stomach clinched.

416. 417. 419.

A torn edge puckered out from the crease. Someone had torn out the page.

"Dammit."

"Tom?" Hermione's head popped around the corner, the brown in her eyes melting in the lantern glow, her curved frame hidden by a red pencil skirt and tight green turtleneck sweater.

"It's late. What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't I ask you the same question?"

Sighing, I flipped over the book I was reading to show her the cover. _Vampires, Werewolves and Other Dark Unexplained Phenomena._

Her lips thinned into a small smile as she held up the book she was reading. _A Practical Guide to Vampire Hunting._

"I just can't get it out of my head," I admitted. "I keep... replaying the attack."

Her brow furrowed and I sensed concern but it quickly fluttered away. "I don't think you'll ever forget. People don't forget things like that... even if they want to."

For a passing moment, I considered telling her about the word that the Count had left in my pocket but something told me it was a bad idea so I held my tongue. "You're welcome to, you know, sit."

"I should be-" Hermione looked around and sighed. "For a few minutes."

I nodded and grabbed another book from the stack and started flipping through it as Hermione sat in the seat beside me.

"Incendio," she said out of nowhere.

"What?"

"That's the spell we should have used. According to this book."

"You like to do things according to the book."

"The wisest way to learn is through the experience of others."

"If you don't try things for yourself, how will you know how much farther you could go yourself? What new discoveries you could make?"

She mumbled something under her breath and flipped the page of the book. I loved the way her eyes would narrow in concentration and the way the tips of her ears turned a warm pink. I was no longer looking at the book but was staring at her, taking in every curve of her gracious face and the twist and bounce of her free-flowing hair.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

I shook my head, getting jarred back into the moment. "No. Sorry. I was-"

"Leering at me." She slammed her book shut.

"Leering is a strong word."

"You know what else is a strong word 'stop staring at me'."

"That's like five words."

"It's four words." Hermione sighed.

A heat rose in my chest, working into my throat and into my mouth, knitting itself into words. "You know what you are?"

"What?"

"A pain. You're great big gigantic pain in the neck. Like all women. I think Malfoy's got something with the whole fancying men thing-" I shouted.

_Dumbest thing I ever said._

"I'm a pain!"

Something fell in the stacks behind us. A horrible sinking feeling washed over me as my blood pumped viciously through my veins. "Was there someone else out there?" I asked.

"No. Not that I-" said Hermione.

I knocked over my chair as I stood up, rushing to look behind the dusty wooden stacks. I saw a haphazard pile of books had fallen over but they were not constructed in a proper way to begin with. They could have fallen in just the normal course of gravity. They were alone.

_But they didn't. But I didn't realize it then._

When I turned, I jumped.

"Hermione, do you have to stand right behind me?"

"Was anyone there?"

I shook my head, feeling my pulse trip as it tried to slow. Her eyes narrowed and she stood on her toes, which I just noticed had no shoes to cover them, just a thin black stocking with a shadowy floral design that rose up the side of her leg and under her skirt.

"You're bleeding again."

There was a sharp pain where Count Dracula had bitten me. I reached to touch the bandage and blood stuck to the tips of my fingers.

"I've been working on a healing spell," whispered Hermione, her bottom lip trembling. "Maybe I can."

Tentatively, I nodded.

Hermione slid closer to me, her familiar scent drifting over me. She placed her wand against my neck and muttered an incantation that played like a hymn in my ear. I swallowed but my mouth was dry so it burned. The pain in my neck dulled.

Her wand dropped away from the wound but Hermione stayed still, looking up at me. I stared down, our eyes holding. When I did it, I knew it was a bad idea. She'd slap me again – or run away – say she hated me ,but I did it anyway. I leaned down just an inch – and the most unbelievable thing happened. Hermione didn't move. I could see her shaking, but she didn't move. Not even when my lips were almost touching her lips. When her eyes shut, so did mine.

_**Something I learned in this moment:**_

There is nothing on earth like the moment before you kiss someone you care about. I adore power, I cherish intelligence, cunning and ambition. But I am addicted, consumed, by the second just before lips fall against lips and the world disappears into warm mouths moving against each other.

Like the lightning before thunder.

Just before the thunder cracked, just before I held her lips with mine, the storm broke.

A throat clearing. Old, milky eyes and wrinkled hands.

"The library is closing," said the old librarian whose name now escapes me. I never talked to her much for all the time I spent in there.

Hermione's eyes burst open, terror writing over her features. She ran out of the library without saying goodbye or looking back or acknowledging I even existed.

That together we had been struck lightning

As I looked down at the stack of books that had failed to teach me much of anything about horcrux other than that Count Dracula had invented it, I noticed two patent leather heels beneath Hermione's chair.

She ran out so fast she forgot her shoes.

_To this day, they're in a box in my closet._

**A/N: Thanks for reading and please review. I welcome comments, questions and ideas. I also do one-shot requests, if anyone is ever interested. I hope you enjoyed some of the vampire mythology in this chapter and the almost kiss. I appreciate everyone who has been following this story. Thanks again!**


	10. Great Thing, Terrible Thing

It's funny how life comes at you but you never see it coming. You think 'Oh, this day will be just like the last, as the last was just like the day before' and it's true, until it isn't. It is important to understand the series of events that led to the Great Thing and the Terrible Thing. At the time I didn't know it, but it began the night before in the library with a fallen stack of books.

But that evening, I went to bed dreaming of horcrux and almost-kisses, not knowing that this was the last time I'd ever see the world the same way. However, I shall begin this story the next morning as the wintery sun sent its dim light into the Great Hall. Because for me, that's when both the Terrible Thing and The Great Thing were hurtling full speed towards us.

That morning Brax and I got up early and went to breakfast. My eyes quickly scanned the Gryffindor table in search of Hermione though, to my disappointment, I did not find her.

"There's something I need to tell you," I said to Brax, taking a quick drink of milk. I wanted to act like it wasn't a big deal. A part of me considered not telling Brax about Hermione at all, but if she told him or if he ever found out, I wasn't sure how to explain not telling him without him realizing that I knew about his feelings for me. Besides he was my only friend. The only person I had to tell.

"What?" replied Brax, mouth full.

"I was in the library last night."

His eyes looked at me, surprise sparking in them. "I thought you were sick?"

"I was – but then I felt better." I never used to mind lying to him but had really started to bother me.

His brow furrowed. "Okay."

"I ran into Hermione there."

"You didn't kill her, did you?" Brax whispered.

_Why did everyone always think that? _"No."

"Good," he breathed.

Here it was. I knew if I didn't admit it to him now. I wouldn't. "I almost kissed her."

His ears reddened slightly and he didn't look up at me. He stabbed the yolk of his egg with a fork. "Did she slap you again?"

"No. I would have – she would have let me kiss her if we hadn't been interrupted by that idiot librarian." The memory made anger bubble inside my stomach. I had been so close. In my life, I'd never wanted anyone – let alone as much as I wanted Hermione.

"Madam ..." Brax said her name then but like I said earlier, I don't remember it.

"She was going to let me kiss her," I repeated, reminding myself as much as Brax. After everything she'd said, after everything we'd said to each other, it was hard to believe. But we were connected somehow, like wizard and wand.

"This isn't part of your plan to humiliate and shame her, is it?"

I thought about it for a moment. It was funny because I'd almost forgotten all about that. "It's actually not."

Brax paused and though he still didn't look at me he replied, "Then I'm happy for you. I really am."

The bench shook as Avery jumped down on it with a ridiculous amount of force. He was pressed right up to Brax his black eyes like tiny leeches.

"Hello, Abraxas," he hissed. Brax shifted uncomfortably.

"Morning Avery." Brax sighed. Neither one of us had ever been in any way close to Avery and weren't really on speaking terms since that night I accidentally fell asleep on the couch in the common room.

"You look good today." His lip curled. Thinking back on this day is strange because at the time I thought very little of it – but still there was something unsettling scurrying around inside my gut, like a black widow spider.

"Excuse me?" Brax leaned away from Avery.

"I just meant I liked your tie. Merlin, Brax, what are you so jumpy for?" Avery winked at him and then walked out of the Great Hall.

"What the hell was that about?" I asked.

"I have no idea." Brax shrugged.

We attended classes where I saw Hermione but she was already sitting with some of her pals from Gryffindor. Longbottom and Potter. But neither one of those two simpletons took arithmancy, so that was the first time I really got a chance to speak with her.

"Hey," I said as I stood by Hermione, trying to sound smooth, but terrified I sounded like an idiot.

"You going to sit here?" She sighed.

"I was," I replied sharply. A part of me tired of fighting with her, another part of me turned on by it.

"Okay."

I sat down, placing my book on the table. "You kind of ran out last night."

"Can we not talk about that?" she asked.

This was ridiculous. We had to talk about what happened. I would go mad if we didn't. "Why not?"

Without looking at me, Hermione said, "I just – I would rather – we're not friends remember? We made a deal."

_It seemed no one wanted to look at me that day._

"Who said anything about being friends?" I tried to joke but it always fell flat. Brax was the funny one. Besides, I wasn't good at having friends but I'd be good at kissing her, holding her, touching her. I knew no one would be better at that than me.

"Riddle," she growled.

I paused, waiting for her to settle. "Did you understand the homework last night?"

"Yes."

Shrugging, I said. "Me too." I should have tried harder to leave the subject alone, but I just didn't care. "We almost kissed."

Her face blushed with a fiery red, her eyes wild, like a trapped animal. "We didn't. We were... I was... we were just standing close to each other."

Anger is a strange heat – it starts in your head in moves downward building and filling your limbs like a virus – and I quickly succumbed to the illness. "You're going to pretend like nothing happened between us?" I spat.

She swallowed, steadying herself. "I'm not pretending." I almost thought she believed it but we both felt what happened the night before. She don't get struck by lightning and forget it happened.

My eyes narrowed as the anger leaked out. "You're insufferable."

"So are you," she snapped.

Hermione and I didn't speak for the rest of class, but sometimes her arm would bump into mine making my heart jump. Sometimes she'd lean over too far to write something and I'd get a quick glimpse she probably didn't want me to see.

Trying to get her out of my head, I headed back to my room to work on a plan for more horcrux and Dracula research.

"We're playing Gryffindor this week. They're the only team that has any chance of beating us. Their seeker, Potter, he's pretty good." Brax was standing by the mirror bare chested, running his fingers through his hair as he grabbed his quidditch robes off the chair by the window.

"I'm sure you're better," I replied, flipping through the vampire book I'd taken from the library.

"Well, of course." He laughed and it built a coolness inside me that pushed out the remnants of anger lingering in my blood.

"Hermione's pretending like nothing happened," I said with a sigh. Feeling suddenly disappointed rather than mad.

"If she's uncomfortable, maybe you should just give her some space," said Brax as his quidditch robes covered his muscled chest.

"She's attracted to me she's just afraid to accept it," I said as I stared down at my shoes.

Brax shook his head. "Why would she be afraid?"

"I'm intimidating."

Brax laughed.

"What?" I crossed my arms. People had always been scared of me – basically since the day I was born.

"You _are_ intimidating. I just think she's the one person you don't intimidate. For some reason."

_Yeah. I noticed that too._

"I've never said this before and I'm going to sound like an idiot when I do. But actually like her."

Brax paused, licked his lips then smiled cautiously. "I know."

"So what should I do?"

"I really have no experience-" mumbled Brax.

"Every girl in this school's in love with you," I nearly shouted. He was being so dense. There was no one better to help me.

"Merlin, Tom. Would you drop it? When it comes to someone I actually like – when it comes to a _guy_ I like. I wouldn't know what to do. So I can't help you. I have to go to practice!" stood there stunned. I'd hardly seen Brax raise his voice, let alone seen his face flush with anger, his hands clinch into fists.

"Brax- I didn't..." My lips searched for an apology but I was never any good at those.

He waved me off. "It's fine. I've got to go."

As he slammed the door, guilt swept over me. I understood just how frustrated he must be and I was sorry to have hurt him. I'd never wanted to see Brax hurt.

When he finally returned from practice, I was still sitting on my bed, but by this time I was surrounded by notes and possibilities about what horcrux could be. My next research idea was going to be to try and break down the root of the word and search for information on the parts. But I'd need the library restricted section for that rather than Brax and mine's personal supply of books.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked Brax as he undressed from quidditch, his hair slick with sweat, his neck and hands red. I'd never noticed the thin scars across his pale skin before – I imagined they'd come from quidditch. It was a rough sport.

Brax shook his head as he splashed some water from a glass on his face. "I'm sorry about earlier. I was just stressing about the game tomorrow." He took a step toward his dresser and limped.

I jumped off the bed and walked to his side. He flinched in pain as he turned and tripped into me. My hand caught his sharp hip bone, steadying him. He tensed and so did I.

"Hey – are you okay?" I asked without taking the time to breath.

He nodded, his gaze flicking to hand before stepping away from my touch. " Lestrange wasn't paying attention – accidentally hit the bludger at my leg. Not a big deal."

I paused, my eyes still on him. "Want to get dinner?"

He pulled on a collared sweater that was open at the top, showing off his neck. "I'd love to man but I got this note saying I needed to go see Professor Slughorn." He smiled.

"Oh. Okay. See you tonight." I was starving so I headed to the bedroom door, but before I stepped out, I heard Brax's voice.

"Hey and Tom – I really do want you and Hermione to work things out. I can tell you really care about her."

I could tell by the kindness in his voice, he meant every word, but I also knew it broke his heart to say them.

_...I think that's when I knew..._

The corridor was mostly empty because I was running late for dinner. Just as I stepped out of dungeon hall, Hermione turned the corner in front of me.

"Riddle. Can I show you something?" asked Hermione, her small hand grabbing my arm. I jumped at surprise and at the power in her touch.

"Uh. Sure."

She dragged me into a nearby classroom and locked the door. There were black tables lining the floor and maps of the world on the wall. A stack of muggle literature on the table. It was the muggle studies classroom. I had never been in there before.

She pulled the soft grey pages of the _Prophet _from her bag. "The library has a collection of old _Daily Prophets _and look what I found."

"That's Count Dracula," I said, recognizing the sallow face and sunken eyes.

"The cemetery he was buried in is just outside Hogsmeade," replied Hermione. "Do you think the grave is empty now?"

"I guess it would be," I said. "Seeing as he's walking around trying to kill people."

Something sparked in her eye, an idea, a plan, something. But it was the same notorious spark I'd seen on Halloween. There was so much power in a such a small girl. "Or maybe he returns to it."

However that didn't sound very likely. "Are you suggesting he buries himself every night?"

"I'm suggesting he's not in a grave but in some type of mausoleum."

"This is all extremely fascinating Hermione but why do I care?"

She shook her head and pulled something from between the pages of the newspaper."I wasn't going to show you this but it affects all of us – including Brax. After Halloween night, I found his the pocket of my sweater."

_You'll pay for this. All three of you._

I felt sick – my hunger washed away. Was that crazy freak who almost killed me coming back? And not just for me but the only two people I'd ever known who I cared anything about? There was no way I could stand for it.

"Are you suggesting we find a way to kill Dracula and hunt him down?" I asked.

"Is that a crazy thing to suggest?"

"Yes."

She crossed her arms, the movements giving me a whiff of her sweet perfume. My feet tingled. "Isn't it better to be on the offensive than the defensive?" she asked, staring up at me, so strong and unflinching, that made my legs shake. "What?" she asked.

A smile burned at my cheeks so let it free. "I've just never met anyone like you before."

She rolled her eyes, those perfect round cheeks pooling with color, her bottom lip just barely sticking out. "Why? Because I'm a bossy, overbearing, know-it-all?" By the way she said those words I could tell she'd heard them before. That this is what other people cited as things about her she should change.

_Those people were idiots._

I grabbed her shoulders, causing her to gasp. She bit down on her lip, her eyes flashing, probably deciding between being afraid and fighting me. But all I could think of was the soft feel of her skin under my fingers, the warmth she radiated. The way she drove me absolutely mad. "You shouldn't say that like it's something to be ashamed of. You're smart, ambitious and a leader – why in the hell should you feel bad about that?"

I honestly didn't see it coming. It was thunder without lightning. It was magic.

She kissed me. It was Hermione who started it. Her hot lips captured mine and just as she did, I kissed her back. My fingers twisted in her hair, my arm around her waist pulling her into me. It was like falling into lava, like burning from the inside out.

I pushed her against the wall, hard, never breaking the kiss. Hermione's arm was locked around my neck and her other hand gripped my tie, nearly choking me. I'd been waiting for this for so long that it knew it would disappoint me. That I'd built it up too much – that I'd realize I'd been right all along and _feeling _was not worth it.

As with everything in her life, Hermione did more than exceed expectations. She was bloody outstanding.

Walking through the halls back to the Slytherin dorms, I experienced a lightness in my limbs. Everything seemed to have a golden glow to it. I could still feel her lips weaving with mine, that quick moment when she'd opened her mouth and my tongue slipped inside.

"Tom," a deep voice jarred me from my thoughts. I turned around. It was Slughorn but even he couldn't ruin this night for me. I'd just kissed Hermione Granger.

"Professor? How was your meeting with Malfoy?" I asked.

"Excuse me?" His thick mustache twisted in confusion.

"Malfoy said he got a letter from you asking him to meet you. He's not with you?" My heart twisted like I'd jumped from somewhere very high. I knew something was wrong. I could feel the wrongness eating at my skin.

"No, Tom. I've been looking for you. I actually wanted to talk to you about your friend." Slughorn grasped my upper arm with a pitying gaze.

"What about him?" I asked, hoping against hope that he was just asking for something like me to help Brax with his homework – but that was a stupid thing to think because Brax was great at Potions.

"Something's happened to Abraxas."

**A/N: Sorry to end on a cliffhanger but it's too much fun not to. Thanks for reading and please review if you're reading. I love hearing what you all are thinking. If you want - answer the question. What happened to Brax? in the review. I've already got it all planned out but I'd love theories. Thanks again! You guys are the best.**

**I had a comment about the Potter on Gryffindor's team. I was just kind of "assuming" that Harry may have had a grandfather or great uncle or something at Hogwarts during Tom's time. It's not James Potter - sorry if this confused anyone.  
**


	11. What Kind of Magic

I followed Slughorn through the school. My brain knew where we were going but something inside my chest kept wishing I was wrong. I wasn't.

We were headed to the hospital wing.

I tried to step inside when Slughorn blocked my way.

"Tom, are you sure you want to go in? This may be difficult-"

Without listening to whatever else Slughorn wanted to say, I pushed past him and into the hospital wing. Nothing would stop me from seeing Brax.

At first I couldn't get a view of him, just a bed surrounded by Madam Parks, Professor Dippet, Dumbledore and two healers from St. Mungos.

"If we would have found him earlier, maybe we could have done something," said a healer.

I cringed. He couldn't be – were they saying he was dead?

Without any more hesitation, I pushed myself between Madam Parks and Dippet. I'd seen many things in my life. I had done many things. I had hurt people for revenge, hell, I'd hurt them for fun. But nothing prepared me for what I saw.

It wasn't Brax. Well, I knew it was because he was wearing the sweater I saw him leave in and the Malfoy family crest on his right ring finger. But other than that he was completely unrecognizable.

His curved pale face was sliced open, crusted over with dried blood. His melting grey eyes were shut, obscured by grotesque purplish swelling. His hands were engorged, red and angry-looking. A blood dripped out the side of his lips, tricking down his chin and neck. And his arms. I had to lean in to get a closer look at the deep cuts on his flesh. My heart wrenched with a force that nearly tore me in half. They weren't random wounds – they were letters spelling out a slur.

It me like a punch across the face, like a curse. There had been someone in the library that day, someone who found out about Brax. What happened to him was my fault.

For the first time, Brax moved. His mouth barely open, he mumbled a few incoherent words.

"What is he saying?" I asked.

"We don't know. He's been mumbling since we found him. Something it's strange – a very strange. It's gibberish."

As I stood there staring down at I knew it was not jibberish. He wasn't saying it's strange or a very strange. He was telling them who did this.

_Avery and Lestrange._

Stunned, I stood there unmoving. A coldness washed over me. I stared down at Brax, at sweet, good Brax, who deserved nothing but happiness. I had done terrible things – I deserved – but it didn't matter. This disaster had happened to him at the hands of those two disgusting fools. Something had to be done.

"I'm tired," I said. "I'm going to bed."

"Okay, Tom." Slughorn clasped his shoulder. Dippet looked at me apologetically and Dumbledore llike he was hardly surprised. Until I stepped beyond the hospital wing doors I walked with slow purpose. The moment I was in the hall, I took off running as fast as I ran I my life.

I shouted the password to the Slytherin common room then rushed inside. Leila was in the corner, examining her face with a mirror. A group of first years were scribbling on parchment and in the middle of the room Avery and Lestrange sat, laughing and playing a game of Wizard's Chess.

_How could they be so – act like they had done nothing – had no remorse._

Yes, I know, I know. This must sound so strange to you coming from me after all the things I've done. But in that moment I truly felt the unfairness. I was drowning in it.

Then something snapped. Like a cord. Or a light. Or a switch. My insides frosted over. Anger morphed into its more dangerous form – calculated revenge.

"Avery, Lestrange. I have something to show you," I said cooly. They lifted their faces, sharing a quick glance. Before they answered, I held my wand at my side and whispered. "Imperio."

"Okay. We're coming," they replied, a dreamy look in their eyes, but no one else seemed to notice. The followed me out the door and down the hallway. I knew exactly where I was going to take them. Somewhere it would be nearly impossible for anyone to find me. Some place hidden.

The Room of Requirement.

"Here we are," I said, opening the door as it appeared on the wall. "You first."

Still under the imperious curse, they stepped inside the room and I behind them. The door slammed and bolted shut. Prepared for just what I wanted to do.

The room was small and dark, cave-like. A small lantern cast its glow in ghostly shapes over Avery and Lestrange.

"Hand me your wands," I commanded. They reached into their robes, removed their wands and passed them to me. I hid them in the wand pocket of my jacket.

I flicked my wand again and their faces changed as the curse left them.

"What is happening?" asked Avery, looking around.

"Where are we?" Lestrange turned to me. "Riddle?" They radiated confusion and panic – it was intoxicating to me, like I was feeding of it.

"What did you do to us?"

I laughed and it sounded like ice shattering on a window. "What did I do?" My wand out. I swept towards them. Both Avery and Lestrange reached for their wands but found nothing.

"Where are our wands?" Avery snarled, trying to look intimidating.

"Our fathers our on the Board of Governors – they'll never let you get away with this."

"Maybe not, but what do you care? You won't be there to see it." Every curse I'd ever learned or studied returned to me in a black flood. It was like they were all there – in my head and my hand just ready to be used. A surge of enormous power crashed through me. I lifted my wand and Avery slammed against the wall, invisible hands squeezing his neck. He thrashed and screamed and the more he did the greater the force on his throat. The greater the pain.

"Why are you doing this?" shouted Lestrange who was trembling in the corner.

"Abraxas." His name was a whisper on my lips.

"That_ freak_ got what he deserved. It's disgusting."

Another jolt of power shocked through me. I slammed Avery against the ground, his head snapping hard on the floor.

"Serpensortia," I hissed and conjured a powerful writhing snake. My eyes shut, my body connecting with the creature, my words slipping into parseltongue.

"What are you saying? Please-" begged Lestrange, but the snake slithered across the ground then up Lestrange's leg. He tried to kick the snake off but its fangs pierced his thigh. Lestrange collapsed. screaming as I commanded the snake to bite him over and over and over.

Avery climbed to his feet. "Crucio!" I shouted. He slammed on the ground, writhing, moaning, his face wild, but I did not relent. I hardly knew what I was doing. It was as if I floated outside myself, looking down, watching. I pulled my wand away and sent a curse at Lestrange, cutting his flesh.

_Bleeding, pus-filled boils._

_Fire burning skin._

_Crucio_

_Crucio_

_Crucio_

I had no idea how long I was there. Had no idea how much time had passed.

Lestrange and Avery were sprawled, black-and-blue, knuckles cracked and bleeding. I was done with them – done looking at them – done with them in the world. I lifted my wand, ready to kill them both.

The door flew open.

"Don't! Stop!" screamed Hermione. Her face was already stained with tears, her curly hair a frantic mess. She threw herself between them and me.

"Get out of the way," I snarled. She didn't understand. They needed to die.

"No," she replied firmly, staring back at me.

"Hermione, you need to move. You saw what they did to Brax." I had been so cold while I was hurting them, so switched off, that I had almost forgotten why I was doing it. The anger held back the pain but I felt it crawling into the pit of my stomach, forcing me to feel again.

"I can't let you do this."

"How can you protect these-"

"L-listen to the mudblood," whimpered Avery, his normally smug face broken.

Hermione whipped her head back. "Shut up you pathetic _fraction_ of a man!" she spat. Then she looked back to me, her voice steady, her eyes locked on mine. "I'm not here for them. I'm here for you."

Her hand touched my wrist, calming me against my will. I couldn't let them get away with this but could she be right?

"Tom, don't throw your life away. Let the school deal with them."

I laughed, anger rising again. "The school's not going to do anything about it and you know it."

Hermione swallowed, a tear escaping her eye. "Please, Tom. Don't."

I grabbed her shoulders, squeezing tightly. So much rage inside me that it took all my strength not to direct it at Hermione. But she kept looking at me, her eyes wide and wet with tears... I didn't know what to do.

"Get out of my way," I growled. Her lip trembling and tears escaping she stepped out of my way, but refused to turn from me or from them. I knelt down in front of the cowering Avery and Lestrange, gripping my wand, wanting so much to watch the life drain from them – to give them what they deserved for what they did to Brax.

_I wanted to kill._

"You got hurt dueling each other. A curse back-fired. That's what you tell people. You will not speak to Abraxas Malfoy, you will not speak _of_ him, you will not so much as glance in his direction."

"And if we don't, you going to kill us, Riddle?" asked Avery, spitting some blood.

"No," I whispered, my eyes bearing into them. "I'll kill your mothers." With that I stood and walked to the door, Hermione followed behind me.

She glanced back and said to them, "Some advice. Don't for a second think he's bluffing."

We were about to step outside the door when Lestrange spoke. "We have a message for you from the Count."

"For me?" I asked, my heart clinching, realization washing over me. It was the Count who told Avery and Lestrange about Brax. He must have seen into his mind like he saw into mine.

"No. For her. He says 'You will not save him'."

Hermione's face paled.

"What's he talking about?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I don't know. Let's get out of here."

Before following Hermione out the door, I tossed Avery and Lestrange their wands. It would, of course, look suspicious if I had them.

"What was Lestrange talking about?" I grabbed Hermione's arm, anger still biting at my skin.

"I honestly don't know."

"He wouldn't just send a message if he didn't think you'd know what it meant," I said though I wasn't entirely convinced of that myself. He had sent me the message 'horcrux' and I had no idea what it meant or how to find out what it meant.

"He's a crazy evil vampire, Tom. How am I supposed to know what he means?" she shouted.

"Okay. Okay."

We walked in silence, our hands brushing occasionally. Her touch sent calming waves through me.

"How did you know where I was?" I asked.

"I heard about Brax and I went to go see him-" Her voice cracked. "Dumbledore said you went to bed but I just... I knew you didn't. And I heard him muttering Avery and Lestrange."

"You understood that too?"

"Yeah."

We made it to the hospital wing and I took a steadying breath before stepping inside. The scene was nearly the same except Madam Parks had gone to bed and the healers had left. Dumbledore, Dippet and Slughorn as well.

Brax was entirely unguarded which just made the rage flare up again.

"I'm staying with him," I said.

Hermione nodded. "Me too."

There was a chair on each side of Brax's bed. We exchanged a quick look then each sat down in one of the chairs. I held my wand in hand – just in case Avery and Lestrange decided to break their deal. Or in case Dracula had gotten to someone else.

I had no plans on sleeping that night and I didn't.

"Have you kids been in here all night?" asked Madam Parks as she walked in the hospital wing. Hermione yawned as the sound woke her.

"Someone had to guard him from _whoever_ did this."

"He's perfectly safe in the hospital wing."

"Obviously not – we both got in here without any difficulty."

Madam Parks pursed her lips. "Mr. Riddle-"

"Tom – just let her be."

I scowled at Hermione but dropped it. I wasn't naïve enough to think that Avery and Lestrange were the only ones that would have a problem with who Malfoy was. For all I knew she could be one of them – the healers, Dumbledore, Dippet – they probably all couldn't care less what happened to him. Maybe they even thought he deserved it.

Blood rushed to my face, my hand gripping my wand so tightly I worried it might break.

"I have to get a pain potion for Mr. Malfoy," said Parks then she swept out of the hospital wing.

"Stupid woman."

Hermione stood up and walked over to me. "It's not going to help anything to piss off the people trying to help Brax."

"I'm not convinced they are trying to help."

"I think you're wrong," she said calmly.

I sighed. "Look at him."

"I know." Hermione sat down on the edge of my chair, her closeness making me nervous, making me stare at her lips. "The healers said the scars won't go away."

"What?" I spat.

A tear trickled down her cheek. "The magic in the curse – the cuts will heal but the scars will always be there."

"You mean his arm will always say-"

"Yes," she replied with grim sadness.

I ran my hand down my face, feeling sick and heavy. "I'm going to find a way to do it," I said through gritted teeth.

"Find a way to do what?" she asked.

"I'm going to kill Count Dracula." My gaze glued to hers.

Her lip curled and her eyes narrowed, a blush of excitement in her cheeks. "I'm going to help you."

The desire came over me stronger than any I'd felt before, a fierce wild thing I could not control. I grabbed her neck and pulled her on top of me, slamming our lips together. The rage, the fear, the revenge pulsed through both of us like something alive. Her fingers tugged my hair and I gripped her hips.

It was a beautiful, painful frenzy of biting and licking and fingers scratching skin.

"Tom?" I heard a cough.

Immediately, Hermione and I stopped kissing. She jumped off my lap.

Brax was awake and I felt awful. How could I have let the first thing he saw be me with my tongue down someone else's throat?

"It was Avery and Lestrange," Brax said, his eyes fixed on me. "And you have some lipstick on your mouth." He smiled and I let out the breath I'd been holding. He was still my Brax – my best friend – my only friend.

"I know about them. I took care of it."

"You didn't-"

"No. He didn't," replied Hermione. "But they won't bother you again."

Brax grimaced as he turned to face me.

"How badly does it hurt?"

"I'll live. How long have you guys been here?" It was easy to see that he was putting on a brave face.

"All night," I replied.

"You should go – get something to eat," Brax said.

"I'm not leaving," I answered.

"Brax is right," said Hermione.

My voice was harsh. "I'm not leaving him."

"But you need to eat – I'll bring you back some food and tell Madam Parks that Brax is awake." Hermione leaned down and placed a kiss on Brax's head. "I'm glad you're awake." She left us alone in the hospital wing.

Brax was just looking at me and I was looking at him. He appeared more like himself as the swelling had gone down and some of the purple faded away. His face suddenly tensed, filling with fear.

"Oh No. No. No. No." He threw off his cover's revealing the bruises and cuts that rippled over his tight stomach muscles. "Oh Merlin, No." He stared down at the inside of his arm and the terrible word written there.

He started to shake violently. "It'll go away, right? It'll heal. Oh no. My father – he'll... who knows?" Brax was frantic, out of control. He started scratching at the scars, digging his fingers into skin – but the wounds healed and the scar reappeared. He wouldn't stop scratching so I grabbed his hand.

"Don't Brax," I breathed. "Don't."

Tears slipped from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. I'd never seen anyone hurt that much – never –_ I_ had never hurt that much.

I wiped a few of his tears which felt cold on my fingers. My hand traveled to his hair flaked with blood. I pulled my chair closer to his bed, looking down at him, absorbing his pain, wishing I could steal it away.

Something strange pricked at my cheeks, like a burning, as a wetness crept into my eyes. Before I could stop it, a droplet slipped out and landed on Brax's arm, right on his scar.

_The first tear I ever cried._

What I saw when I looked down astonished me, the letter where the tear had fallen disappeared. Brax's brow furrowed as he noticed the same thing. Quickly, I ran my thumb over the tear, spreading it out and, as I did, the scar faded until it was gone.

"How did?" Brax asked, his mouth smiling.

I shook my head. "I don't know. I have no idea."

My gaze fell on Brax's pale unblemished arm as something like joy, something unknown, rapidly spilled through me. I laced my fingers with his, squeezing tightly.

_What kind of magic could do something like this?_

__**A/N: Thanks for reading. This one doesn't really end on a cliffhanger but we do have a lot to deal with in the upcoming chapters. Brax's reaction to Hermione and Tom's new "relationship". The reaction of Brax's parents to the whole ordeal. The Count pursuing Tom and the newly created pact to end Dracula. Let me know what you think. Questions, comments, constructive critique, all welcome. Also - if you ever find a typo or something incorrect let me know that too and I'll fix it ASAP. Thanks for everything!**


	12. The Count's Grave

It's a curious thing how when you've gone your whole life feeling nothing, regretting nothing, desiring nothing, just how much stronger every emotions is. The good and the bad. When Hermione kissed me, it wasn't warm – it was explosive, consuming. When Brax smiled at me, it wasn't nice – it was standing in the summer sunshine. When I'd pass Avery or Lestrange in the hallway, it didn't upset or make me angry – it made me vicious. Like my insides were tearing apart, boiling in lava. It was a torrential rain of hatred.

Still I kept it in check because it was the best for everyone. It was best not to draw attention to what had happened to Brax – and why it had happened.

Brax spent the next week healing in the hospital wing. Outside of class, I spent almost every hour there. And so did Hermione. But while I was bringing him chocolate frogs and playing wizard's chess, she would show up and recite the lessons that Brax had missed so he wouldn't fall behind on his studies.

It was kind of a crazy thing for her to do but I couldn't help but be impressed by it. After working all day, she'd work with Brax, that enchanting face of hers screwed up in concentration, her brown locks falling over her face as she taught him what they'd learned in class.

Then, several hours after dinner, Brax took his sleeping potion and we bid him goodnight.

The halls were vacant as I came up behind Hermione and wrapped my arms around her waist, kissing her neck.

"Tom, what are you doing?" She squirmed away from my touch.

"I think that's pretty obvious." I grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to me. My fingers stroked her cheek.

"I can't-"

"You can't what?"

"Us – it's crazy."

I sighed, leaning my forehead on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her strawberry hair potion. "Why?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Then let's not talk about it." I raised an eyebrow, smirking. She shook her head but didn't protest when I backed her against the wall and violently kissed her mouth. Hermione tensed, moaning, then her hand gripped my hair, shivers exploding down my spine. Every inch of me alive and tortured by her incredible, passionate touch.

The classroom down the hall was vacant. I cast the unlocking charm as I lifted Hermione up around my waist and pushed into the classroom. I locked the door behind us and cast a silent silencing charm.

"Tom," she said, out breath. "Tom, we should go back to our dorms."

I sat her down on a desk, freeing her lips and moving to her neck. She leaned to give me better access, pulling her hair out of the way at the same.

"You're words and actions don't quite seem to match, pet." I bit down on her earlobe.

"Why do you have to be so-"

I looked her in the eye as tension ran through my body. It was impossible to hold myself back around her. She driving me insane. "So what?"

"I should hate you."

"You don't?" If she didn't that was an improvement on the girl who swore I'd regret the day we met.

"I still do. You don't understand – I can't explain."

"I'm – never – going – to – hurt – you," I said between kisses.

She laughed coldly and I shut her up by crashing our lips together hard, licking her bottom lip, pushing my tongue into her mouth. I shrugged out of my jacket letting it hit the floor. My hands brushed her neck and started working at the buttons of her shirt, kissing further down her neck.

Hermione pushed me away. "I can't do that with you." She shook her head. "I need to leave."

I leaned on the desk, trying to catch my breath, thinking about the glimpse of black lace I'd just seen. She was buttoning her shirt.

"We need to talk about what we're doing this weekend," she said, her voice all business. "It's the last Hogsmeade trip before the Christmas holiday."

I wiped my tender swollen lips and glanced up at her. Why did she have to stop me? I could tell by the way her lidded eyes held me in their gaze she wanted me as I wanted her.

" We should be safe near his grave as long as we don't stay there past dark. This is just a mission to see what we can learn about Dracula. Don't get one of your reckless Gryffindor hero ideas."

"I promise. Good night, Tom."

"No Good night kiss?" I shut the door, my lips curled into a devious smile.

"I think you've had plenty of kissing. Now let me out."

I opened the door but caught her around the shoulders with my arm. My tongue ran around the curve of her ear and she shuddered. "See you tomorrow," I whispered hoarsely. She swallowed hard then scurried off toward the Gryffindor dorms.

Sleeping did not come easily for me that evening. Not only was I worried about what we would find the following day, but I could not help but notice Brax's uneasy sleep. Madam Parks had given him a sleeping draught which had kept him calm throughout the night and though he was still taking it, it seemed to no longer be working – at least not as well. Brax spent most of the night, twisting in the bed, mumbling things under his breath. When he woke up, he was sweaty and red-faced.

"Are you okay?" I asked him the following morning as he sat on the edge of his bed.

"I'm fine. Why?"

I sighed. "No reason."

Brax pulled on his shoes.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Getting dressed. It's our last Hogsmeade weekend before break."

Was he out of his mind? "You need rest. You shouldn't be-"

"I know you're planning something with Hermione."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied casually.

"Don't do that." Brax stood. "Don't push me out. Just because... I'm not weak." He stared down at his feet.

"I don't think you're weak, Brax. You just shouldn't have to deal with this."

"If Dracula had anything to do with what happened to me, I want in on this. I have every right to be in on this."

I could feel myself giving in to him. He was right. As much as I had a strange desire to protect him, Brax deserved the chance to fight back. He probably needed it. I knew I would. "Hermione's not going to like it."

With a half smile, Brax said, "Well, that's incentive for you to let me go. You love making her crazy."

_Yes I do. In many different ways..._

The cold winter wind burned my face as Brax and I stepped outside the castle. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck. Hermione stood a little ways down the path, her cheeks pinked in the cold, her hair blowing in the wind.

"There you are. Brax? I didn't think you were coming," she said.

"You don't have to protect me, Hermione. In a fair fight, I can take care of myself. And we're just going to visit a vampire's grave in the middle of the daytime. I'll survive."

"Tom."

"He's coming so just get over it, pet." I slung my arm over her shoulder and she shrugged away. Brax looked down at his feet and bit his bottom lip but I could see the smile he was forcing back.

I elbowed him. "Thanks for the support."

He just shook his head. "So what are we looking for anyway?"

"A clue, I guess. As to what he wants from us," I said.

"I just thought he wanted revenge for how we thwarted his plan and killed some of his vamp-friends."

Hermione sighed, slowing her gait so she walked in step with us. Something felt right about the three of us at that moment – like it was the way the world was meant to be. Her at my left and Brax at my right. "We think it might be more," said Hermione.

Brax's hand closed around my wrist, stopping me, turning me to look into face. "Why would you think that?"

Hermione replied, "He's been sent us a message through Avery and Lestrange. It's how we knew he was involved with your attack. He said-"

"That she'd never be able to save me."

Brax's eyes widened, his grip on my arm tightening. "Save you from what?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," I said, slipping away from Brax's grip and tossing my arm over his shoulder. He didn't pull away and I was glad he didn't.

Hogsmeade was as alive and bustling as ever. Students wandering in and out of the Three Broomsticks and Honeydukes with the kind of excitement that could only be a result of the combination between the trip and the closeness to the Christmas holiday. But we passed all of those things and continued down a narrow path into the bare, frost-bitten woods.

"You sure you know where we're going?" asked Brax, rubbing his hands together.

"I looked it up."

"That's your answer to everything isn't it?" I laughed.

She glared at me. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No." I smirked.

Finally, in the distance, a rusted gate appeared through the foggy haze. Behind the gate, dozens of stone grave markers covered the ground. The air felt colder. I never liked cemeteries. I never liked being that close to death when I wasn't in control of it.

"It's kind of eerie," said Brax.

"It's a graveyard. What'd you expect, a circus?" snapped Hermione.

"What's wrong with you today? I get jumping down his throat but what did I do to you?'

Hermione let out a long breath and it materialized in the frozen air. "Nothing. I'm sorry, Brax. I'm just a little stressed." Her brown eyes flashed to me. She could pretend all she wanted that it was me upsetting her but really it was her attraction to me. The attracted she insisted on denying.

My leather-gloved hand grasped the gate pushing it open with shrill squeak. I stepped onto the cobblestone path, Brax and Hermione behind me.

"Do you see a mausoleum or any above ground graves?" asked Hermione, her hand shading her eyes as the sun peaked through the clouds.

"What's that?" asked Brax, looking to the east.

I glanced over his shoulder and sitting between two leafless ash trees was a black iron door leading into a small mound of raised earth.

"Let's check it out," I said. When I arrived at the door, I ran my hand over the strange markings on the door. I blinked and for a second I swore the odd scratches were words but when I blinked again they looked like nothing. "Do you see that?" I asked.

Brax knelt down beside me, examining the door. "It looks like someone hacked at the door with an axe. Maybe they were trying to break in?"

Hermione was staring at me. "Did you see something else?"

I shook my head. "No – I-"

"Tom – what did you see? I was just – I thought I saw some letters."

A thoughtful look crossed her face and she raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you did. Focus."

Swallowing, I turned back toward the door and directed all my attention on the scratches. It was like I was spinning and then I saw it. I suddenly knew what the scratches were. Something I'd never seen before. Something I didn't know existed. Written parseltongue.

"I can read it," I said.

"Well what does it say?" asked Brax.

"Here lies a master of magic, a conqueror of death. When the sun falls, this servant of darkness will rise to bring more to his higher cause. A wizard's true destiny. Immortality"

As I said those words, the door creaked open from its hinges, revealing a set of stairs bathed in the darkest black I'd ever seen.

"You first," said Hermione.

I stuck my foot out to cross into the unusual grave when a force like two hands plowed my chest and sent me flying backwards, nearly smashing my head on a gravestone.

"Tom!" shouted Brax. "Are you alright?" He reached out and I took his hand, letting him help me to my feet.

"What happened?" asked Hermione, chewing her lip, trying to look calm but I saw the worry that flashed in her eyes.

"What does it look like? Something blocking us out."

"There's more," whispered Hermione. "Tom, come read this."

She was pointing to just over the door where there were more faint scratches. I blinked, focusing, allowing the words to appear to me.

_This is a sacred place. Guarded against the inferior race of the muggles and any wizard whose blood is tainted by theirs._

I breathed out a long sigh. "We can't go in," I said.

"What do you mean?" asked Brax.

"I meant me and Hermione." My eyes locked on hers as something heavy and sour lay in my stomach.

"Only the pure of blood may enter," I said.

Brax's eyes widened, his bottom lip falling slightly. "I have to go in _there_ – alone."

"You don't have to," I said quickly.

His eyes focused on the deep tunnel of darkness. "I'll go."

"Brax-" said Hermione, stepping in his path.

Brax removed his wand from his coat pocket. "I'm the only one that can. Don't try to stop me."

I clasped Brax on the shoulder and he looked at me and I looked back at him.

"Lumos," he whispered, his wand tip lighting, then stepped through the threshold unimpeded.

If something happened to Brax in there I'd never forgive myself.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Hope you liked this chapter - it was a bit shorter but there have been some long ones recently. Anyway, I'll update soon. Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter or what you think is coming next. Thanks!**


	13. In the Tomb

"Are you okay, Brax?" asked Hermione.

"Fine so far," he replied.

"Be careful."

Back and forth, I paced across the dead winter grass, listening to the crunching beneath my shoes, the whistling of the wind in my ears. It should have been me down there. I shouldn't have let him go. I should have stupefied Brax, dragged him home and found another way.

"It's really dark. My wand is hardly helping." Brax's voice sounded more distant, nearly impossible to make out.

"Try lumos maxima," I shouted. "It will give you a quick glimpse of bright light and maybe you can get a general idea of what's down there."

"Okay!" he shouted back.

Hermione and I were staring down the underground mausoleum. It lit with the bright flash of Brax's wand.

"Did you see anything?" asked Hermione.

There was a pause.

"Brax?" I added.

"No. I – uh – there's nothing down here. It looks like it was raided or something. Just some broken ceramic pots."

"Turn around," said Hermione. "Just come back out."

Relief washed over me briefly. Sure I wanted to find out what was down there but I was also interested in getting Brax out safely. The same Brax who had spent a lot of time in the hospital wing recently. He didn't need anymore. Then it hit me.

"Wait," I said. "It could be a concealment charm. Try aparecium."

"I'll try." Brax's footsteps faded. "Hey – there's something here."

If only the excitement could have lasted a bit longer...

Brax let out a scream. A deep, guttural, wild kind of scream. It was a sound I'd heard before. A sound I'd heard too often.

It was the sound of pain.

The reaction I had was like breathing, like blinking, like existing. It didn't require thought or measured understanding. It was as much a part of me as my heart beat.

I threw myself through the cursed opening.

I thought I'd made it. Then, like a club swung across my chest, the shield threw me backwards. _Hard._ My back cracked against the frozen ground, sharp pain stabbing through me.

Without entertaining a thought otherwise, I scrambled to my feet and ran at the opening again, Brax's screams still ringing in my ears. If it hadn't been for Hermione grabbing my arm with all the strength she had and pulling us both to the ground in a heap of limbs, I probably would have been knocked unconscious.

_I never would have stopped trying._

I fought to get away from Hermione. I had to get to Brax. It was my fault he was down there. My fault he was in pain again.

"Tom, stop. Tom – you can't get down there. You have to stop. You'll hurt yourself." Her hands gripped my face, forcing me to look at her. "Calm down."

"I – Hermione. But – it's Brax."

Her hands dropped away from my face. I shut my eyes, as the realization of just how reckless I'd been washed over me. Sometimes it was like I didn't know who I was anymore. This other person would just push through the thin cracks in my ice and explode like fire.

"I know," she breathed. "But we have to be smart. We have to figure this out."

I took a deep breath. She was right. This required subtly, thoughtfulness, and maybe a bit of cunning. If I could keep my feelings at bay maybe I could help Brax.

"The screaming's stopped," I noticed, jumping to my feet. "Brax!" I shouted. "Brax are you okay? Can you hear me?" My voice cracked.

Hermione hurried up beside me. "Brax! Answer us." She swallowed hard. My heart pounded furiously. Panicking, I ran my hand through my hair.

"What if he's-" I couldn't bring myself to say it. I couldn't lose Brax.

Hermione grabbed my shoulders. "He's not. Maybe he can't hear us – or maybe he passed out."

"Or maybe-" My heart was black and heavy.

"No," she said firmly. "I'm not letting you give up."

"What can we do? We're not pureblood wizards?"

Hermione straightened her back, staring me in the eye. She had that powerful look about her that I couldn't help but be attracted to. "No but we're good wizards. Smart ones. It's not an act of God, it's a curse. And curses can be broken."

I swallowed and nodded. Hermione was right. Absolutely right.

"I don't have much experience in _breaking_ curses."

Hermione laughed shallowly. "Well I do."

"Strong curses like this are usually created using some sort of talisman. Something personal to the owner – that's what makes it difficult to break them," I said.

"Yes – but maybe we don't need to follow the rules. Whatever system Dracula put in place to protect his tomb. We don't need to figure out how he would have gone about taking down the barrier. We just need a different way in."

"Something he wouldn't expect?"

"Exactly." She nodded, her eyes narrowing concentration. "Tom stand by the entrance. I'm going to do something and when I do, try to push through the ward."

Hermione drew a deep breath and swished her wand. "Expecto patronum." A silvery light exploded from the tip spreading out and hitting the barrier. Little grey sparks flashed off the ward, but for the quickest moment, I could push into it.

"Try it again!" I shouted.

She said, "Expecto Patronum" again. It was a spell I did not recognize – but it seemed to be a powerful one.

"It's letting me push it into for a second before kicking me out, but not anymore than the first time."

"When I do this – you need to run into the opening as fast as you possibly can."

"What are you going to-"

"Expecto Patronum!" Hermione stumbled back as her wand sent an enormous explosion of silver light hurtling into the ward. An enormous crack sounded through the air. I didn't hesitate. I did what she asked and jumped through the opening.

It felt like a million hands squeezing my skin, pushing my muscles until they bled against my bones. I groaned with pain then hit the concrete floor. I blinked, trying to focus. Had I even made it?

_Yes._

Whatever spell Hermione just used had worked but I could feel that the ward had returned. The angry heat radiating off it, scorching my skin. I scooted away.

"It worked!" I shouted, struggling to my feet.

Hermione smiled on the other side of the barrier. "I'll do it again when you return. Bring Brax back."

I nodded, taking one last look at Hermione, before turning and igniting the tip of my wand as Brax had done. He was right though. The darkness was thicker than normal darkness, like dirty liquid air.

Running my hand along the mossy brick wall, I felt my way deeper into the tomb. A cold, dead smell permeated the air. It was sickening feeling – even for someone like me. Someone who didn't mind the darkness. All I could think about was trying to get myself out. But I would not leave without Brax. That was not an option.

When the staircase finally ended, I entered an open room. "Lumos Maxima," I said just as Brax had done. A bright lit illuminated the room but there was nothing beside some broken pots and vacant concrete pedestal where the casket should have been laid to rest. I did not, however, see Brax.

"Brax!" I shouted. "Are you there? Are you okay? Brax!"

No answer.

My heart pounded.

"Aparecium," I said, holding out my wand. Like a fog rolling out, everything in the room became visible and lit by encircling lanterns. Brax's eyes were closed. He lay on the floor, his right cheek pressed against the dusty concrete.

I raced to his side. "Brax. Oh, please. Brax." My fingers felt his neck for a pulse. There was a light, steady beat. I sighed with relief. "Wake up." I lifted his head into my arms.

His eyes fluttered open, showing off their grey flecks in the dark. "How'd you get in here?" Brax coughed.

"Long story," I breathed, a half-smile on my face.

"What happened?"

"Dementors. They never bothered me much before but-" There was fear in his eyes. I knew what dementors did well. They made you feel like you would never be happy again and sometimes they made you relive your darkest moments.

That was why he screamed.

"Let's get you out of here." I threw Brax's arm over my shoulder and lifted him. When I turned I shouted. A cloaked dementor floated before me, staring deep into me. _They'd never bothered me before either..._

But, suddenly, like moving pictures, old images came back to me. So many of the things I'd done. The people I'd hurt. That little boy at Wool's whose rabbit I killed not long before coming to Hogwarts for the first time. My muscles ached. I could hardly hold Brax as all the memories rushed through. The guilt.

I cast a curse I'd learned a while back. A thick black fog emitted from my wand, leaving a dank sulfur stench in the air. I wasn't sure how long it would last against a dementor but it should confuse it long enough for me to get Brax out of this place.

Brax was heavy with muscle. I couldn't carry him indefinitely but behind my cursed disguise I hurried up the stairs to the ward. Hermione was pacing on the other side.

"Thanks goodness!" she shouted, her whole body visibly relaxing.

"Can you stand?" I asked Brax.

He nodded weakly so I slowly set him down, keeping my arm around his shoulder.

"Go on," I ordered.

"You're coming too," said Brax.

I smiled. "You first." My eyes flashed to Hermione as Brax stumbled through the opening. I was glad Brax was safe but not happy that it was all for nothing.

"Tom look out!" shouted Hermione. Before I could react, a dementor zoomed up, breathing its sour breath, pulling something from inside of me. The small specs of light I'd recently found dimmed. Everything consumed by darkness. Hermione's face. Brax's face. They were muddling. But I couldn't – I didn't want to let them go.

"Expecto patronum," said Hermione, but the sound was blurred. The dementor shot backwards and away from me, giving me my breath and those precious specs of light back. But I was weak and sinking to my knees. I heard, "Expecto patronum!" again and felt arms lock underneath my arms and yank me from the tomb. It was Brax.

Catching my breath, I looked over and found Brax lying next to me on the ground. He lifted a tired eyebrow. "We should have gone to the Three Broomsticks."

Hermione sat down at our feet and leaned her head back, laughing. Then she smiled sympathetically. "You okay, Brax?"

"I don't know... I feel."

She stood back up then reached to help him to his feet. "Some chocolate will help."

"Really?" he asked.

"It should," I said and stood up myself.

"I'm sorry. We made you do all that for nothing," I sighed.

"We'll you didn't make me do anything. And it wasn't for nothing," replied Brax.

"What do you mean?" Had Brax actually found something?

He reached into his jacket, removing an old pocket watch. He placed it in my hand. "It had your name on it."

"What?" my voice cracked. That was impossible.

"I have no idea how. It doesn't make sense," he said, shrugging. "Why would something of yours be in Dracula's tomb?"

Hermione's face furrowed as she looked down at the watch. Sure enough, etched in the brass, I read the words "Tom Riddle". But Tom Riddle wasn't my name. Not exactly. But it was my father's.

I let out a long sigh. "It's not mine. It's my father's." I slipped the watch in my pocket. How could something of my muggle dad's ended up in Count Dracula's tomb? My heart jumped. Could he have been a wizard after all?

All three of us were exhausted as we headed back to school. It was almost dark and nearly everyone had already returned to the castle. So tired in the dark, I had Hermione's fingers twisted in mine on one side, and Brax, my arm around his shoulders, on the other. I was glad I could still remember their faces.

That evening, before Hermione headed back to the Gryffindor dorms, I stopped to talk to her.

"I'll just head back to the room," said Brax. I nodded and watched him walk off.

"Thank you," I said.

She didn't look me. "We'll figure out why he had your father's watch. It's got to mean something."

"Yeah," I whispered. "But Hermione. I don't know what I would have done without you today."

"It was a team effort," she said. "All three of us."

"It was." I laid a hand on her cheek then leaned down, pressing my lips gently to hers.

"Tom-"

I sighed and leaned my head on her shoulder. "I know. I know. You still hate me."

"I don't know how I feel about you," she admitted.

"That's a start."

She laughed under her breath. "Good night, Tom."

"Good night, Hermione."

I avoided everyone's gaze as I headed back through the Slytherin common room. I wasn't in the mood to talk. I just wanted to sleep.

"Going to bed?" I asked Brax as I stepped through the door and spelled it locked.

"After I take my dreamless sleep potion." He swallowed the contents of the vial on the night stand.

"Has that even been working?" I asked, undressing.

"Not very well but Madam Parks won't increase the dosage. "

"I can try to make you-"

Brax smiled. "It's fine, Tom. Let's just get some sleep." He pulled a grey t-shirt over his bare chest, ruffling his hair. I was looking at him and I didn't know why, but I didn't want to stop. "You need something?" he asked.

"No... you're right. Let's sleep." I slipped out of my shirt and laid down under the soft sheets, letting the exhaustion overtake me.

Brax yawned. "Good night, Tom."

"Night, Brax."

A few hours later I awoke, my heart leaping. I turned to see Brax thrashing in his bed, his eyes still shut but the rest of his face contorted in horror. His arms were covering his chest, flailing wildly.

"Brax," I said. "Brax. Wake up." But he didn't hear me. He just kept twisting and turning and muttering words.

"Stop. Please. Stop."

"Don't. Don't touch me."

His voice became a whimper.

Just six months ago, I would have let him lie there like that. It wouldn't have made me sick or made my insides sour. I wouldn't have wanted more than anything in the world to stop his pain, to give him peace. But I did. It was all I wanted.

I slipped out of bed. "Brax," I said. My hand fell to his cheek. "Brax. It's me. Wake up." He tried to push me away, still in the throes of the nightmare, but I just gripped him harder. "Wake up. I'm right here. Please wake up for me. Brax!" I shouted. He jolted awake.

Breathing heavily, still looking terrified, his eyes caught mine. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He frowned, his body sticky with sweat, his blond hair damp.

"It's okay." My fingers traveled to his hair where the combed gently through his wet locks. "Merlin, Brax. You're shaking."

He bit his lip. "I'm tired of reliving it every time I sleep."

"I know," I whispered.

He started shaking harder. I could have walked back to my own bed. I could have done a lot of things differently that night, but I wouldn't if I got the chance. "Shh," I said. "I'm right here. Right here." I kept brushing through his hair.

With a deep breath, I laid down and pulled him into my chest. His whole body was twitching against mine.

"I just want it to stop," he whimpered against my skin. I held him tighter. I wanted it to stop too.

"I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. No one will hurt you. I won't let them. Just breathe."

His chest rose and fell against my abs. I buried my face in his hair, not understanding what I was feeling or why. I'd never had a friend like Brax. Or even a friend at all. There was something about being close to him that made things better. Brighter.

I think it was true for both of us.

We fell asleep that night, just like that. His face against my chest, my chin on the top of his head, my fingers in the hair on the back of his head. It didn't stop the nightmares, but no matter how many times he woke up screaming, I never let him go.

I never left.

**Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this chapter - and watching Tom as he tries to navigate his new emotions and what to do with them and what they mean. Please review if you get a chance and as always thanks for the reviews, favs and follows!**


	14. Snow Demons

The morning light shone in through the crack in curtains hanging from the bedroom windows. The brightness forced me to open my eyes. It had been a long night, but not a bad one. Brax would wake up every few hours as the nightmares attacked and I would just hold him tight to me until he stopped shaking. I didn't mind, but I was still tired.

"Good morning," I said, yawning and gazing down at Brax and his bed-head.

Brax's wide grey eyes blinked a few times then opened. "T-tom?" he breathed.

I smirked, my hand still on the back of his head from how we'd slept that night. "Hey."

His cheeks were blushed as he chewed on his bottom lip. "I'm so sorry – I didn't mean to. You didn't have to – Thanks." He sighed.

"Sure." I yawned, feeling the exhaustion. I really could have used a few more hours of sleep.

Brax sighed, shifting his weight in my arms. "I kept you up all night, didn't I?"

"Not all night."

He briefly leaned his forehead against my chest. "I'm sorry," his lips vibrated against my skin. I swallowed.

"Don't be," I whispered, my chin on the top of his head.

Brax glanced up at me, suddenly smiling. "It's Christmas break."

My brow furrowed as I realized he was right. "Yeah it is." I loved Christmas break – it meant less people around this place and less people was always a good thing.

Brax rolled away from me, climbing out of the bed. "Want to go get some breakfast? Or are you going to sleep a little bit more?"

My mouth stretched into a wide yawn and I laid my head back on Brax's pillow.

He shrugged, a devious smile on his lips. "That's fine I'll just have breakfast with Hermione all by myself."

I sat up in bed. "Hermione's still here?" I never thought about that. About her still being here. I climbed out from under the covers.

He shook his head. "I knew that would get you out of bed."

"I guess she wouldn't want to go back to the orphanage," I said, stretching my arms over my head. I'd never slept in the same bed with someone before – and two full grown men on a twin sized bed was a close fit, but I would be lying if I said it was a bad night.

"No probably not," breathed Brax, his eyes glancing out the window to the snow blanketed grounds.

"I'm going to head down the showers," I said.

"Yeah me too," replied Brax and he followed me out the door.

After showering, Brax and I headed down to the Great Hall. Huge brightly-lit Christmas trees lined the hall, the scent of evergreen strong and festive in the air. I couldn't help but feel a warm, comforting feeling sweep over me – a feeling I assumed most people associated with being at home.

We saw Hermione lingering in the hallway, her nose in a book and decided to play a little prank on her. We headed outside into the snowy day.

"Psst- Hermione," said Brax. We leaned our heads through the door back into Hogwarts. Hermoine's eyes flashed to us.

"Come on," I said, waving her towards us.

She shrugged and slipped her small book into the pocket of her black overcoat.

"What's going on? Is everything alright?" she asked as she made her way down the hallway and stepped outside. The minute her boot hit the grass, Brax and I tossed the snowballs we'd just made at her, hitting her on the back of the head and on the side of her jacket. We laughed. I didn't laugh very often but I couldn't help it when I looked at her angry expression and Brax's free joyous one.

"Seriously! You guys suck," she snapped.

_Side note: Suck was not slang back then. Brax and I were very confused._

"We what?" asked Brax.

"It's a...muggle... saying... from America," she stumbled over her reply.

"Whatever you say." I shrugged, aware she was making something up but not sure why.

_Now I know._

Hermione's hand went into her coat pocket and I thought nothing of it at the time, but a hard, icy ball smashed against the back of my neck. I jumped brushing the cold snow away. Brax snickered and so did Hermione.

My eyes narrowed as I glared at Hermione. "That's cheating."

"Since when do you think magic is cheating?" She crossed her arms.

I didn't have an answer ready for her. "Well-"

"Just because you don't know how to make a magic snowball." She smirked, the cold wind blowing her hair and picking up the skirt of her dress just enough to give me an excellent view of her thighs. I had to stop staring...

I grabbed my own wand and muttered a spell that kicked up the wind behind me, blowing a giant wall of snow directly at Hermione and also spraying Brax.

"Hey!" she shouted, trying to push the snow out of her face.

Brax's mouth dropped open, his eyes narrowed like he was attempting to look angry, but I could see the laughter in those clear eyes of his. "I was on your team!"

Grinning, I quickly packed another snowball and tossed it at Hermione. She ducked and sent another magic one of her own. I ran over to her, picked her up off the ground and tossed her into a pile of snow.

Her face was alight with surprise. "Tom!" she shouted.

I turned around and pushed Brax. He caught my arm and we fell down together beside Hermione.

"What's wrong with you?" Brax breathed in my ear.

"Brax!" I heard the shout but for some reason it didn't register.

"I like to win," I whispered back, taking a deep breath. Hermione was leaning on one shoulder and Brax on the other. I had never felt like before... never, not even for a second, but in that moment I felt...complete.

"Brax!" shouted the voice again. This time I realized it was a girl, but before we got a chance to move. She was standing in front of us with her long wavy blonde hair and bright red lipsick. Leila. "What are you – I was wondering if you were coming."

"Coming where?" asked Brax, brushing himself off and standing.

"Home. My family is spending it with yours this year."

"Uh, no. My mom said I could stay at Hogwarts."

"Oh – okay. That's strange," breathed Leila, her brow furrowed. "Anyway, I'll see you around."

Brax looked down at Hermione and I. He smiled at me, then looked down at his. "Wait up, Leila. I'll see you out."

The VanGraffs and the Malfoys were old wizarding families and old wizarding families often shared traditions and histories that people like Hermione and could never quite understand. Like we were always on the outside.

"What was that about?" asked Hermione.

My gaze fell on Brax who shrinking in the distance at Leila's side. "I have no idea." I looked back at Hermione who was moving her arms and legs in the snow.

"Are you alright?" I asked. Hermione was moving her legs and arms back and forth in the snow.

She glanced over at me. "I'm making a snow angel. Haven't you ever made a snow angel? Or are you more of a snow demon person?"

"There it is."

"What?"

"I've missed that sharp tongue of yours."

"Have you?" She raised an eyebrow. I smirked at her. She blushed.

"That's not what I meant."

"It is accurate though."

I flipped over, pressing my body down on top of her, loving the contact between us. She struggled underneath me, but her movement had the opposite effect I imagine she planned it on having. Let's just say – it didn't make me want to get off her.

Slowly, I leaned down and pressed my mouth to hers. It started slow but deep as I opened her lips and mouth a determined tongue. She groaned then kissed back hard. Her hands were in my hair, gripping, tearing. It was always like that with us. Fast, frenzied, like our touches were running on borrowed time.

My fingers traced down her side, wanting to wander elsewhere. Wanting to touch her where I never had. I removed my glove and worked my hand under the hem of her shirt. She gasped when the tips of my finger's grazed the soft skin at the edge of her skirt. With my eyes holding on hers, I crept my hand up her flesh, waiting for her to stop me but she never did. She just bit her lip and shut her eyes as my hand ran over his soft flesh, touching her, feeling her. Hermione leaned up and bit the skin between my shoulder and my neck. There was anger and confusion in her touch – but she was still touching me so I would not complain.

I swear as we kissed and touched and moved against each other we melted the snow around us with our shared heat.

**Thanks for reading. Sorry this was so short. We've had some pretty heavy chapters recently so I thought a nice, short, sweet one would be a great break. Because once again things are going to get difficult for our three friends starting next chapter. Please review. Thanks for all the favorites and follows as well.**


	15. Christmas Presents

A book rested in my hands, perched on my wrists. My eyes fell over the words, reading, taking them in. Vampires and vampire hunting and history and words and words and nothing that helped. Nothing that answered any of my questions.

It was late. All the other Slytherins had gone home for Christmas. Brax sat beside me on the couch just looking ahead, no distraction. I always admired his ability to just be. He didn't fear the silence, the hollowness, that told you all the things you weren't, you could never be, the emptiness that counted all your sins and laid them bare in front of you.

Maybe it was because he was good. Truly good. It wasn't the silence Brax feared but the condemnation of thoughtless people. Prejudiced people.

_I am a prejudiced person. Not about that. But I am... that's hard to face when I think of Brax. _

The words hung heavy on my eyes and on my mind. I yawned and felt the strangest urge to lean back. An urge I gave in to. Slowly, but I did.

_Like many other things._

My head fell on Brax's lap, a wave of comfort washed over me. It shouldn't have felt like that but it did. Like my fingers were grazing peace for the first time. Brax looked down at me, his expression unreadable. My eyes fell back to the words. I had to keep searching. Searching for horcrux – for why the watch had my father's name on it – for a way to stop the undead creature who sought revenge.

Brax's hand touched my head. I swallowed, biting down on my tongue. My heart skipping in my chest. Brax hesitated but let his fingers sink through locks to my scalp. He pulled his fingers through. I shut my eyes. Merlin. What was this? This heat in the soles of my feet, in the pit of my stomach, blossoming in my cheeks.

He kept his fingers working against my head, relaxing me. I yawned again and forced myself to read. More nothing and nothing and then...

_During the 14__th__ century, the vampire population was hunted by the wizarding rulers over the world into near extinction. Dracula was one of the few remaining. Until the 20__th__ century, vampires were hunted without distinction or exception. To be a vampire was to deserve a death sentence. _

"You read something interesting," said Brax, matter-of-fact.

I looked up at him, looking down at me. Swirling, grey, endless eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed them back open "How did you?" I asked.

His teeth bit down on his bottom lip, a blush painted his cheeks. "It's your concentration face."

"M-my what?" I stuttered. I never stuttered.

"You, uh, your nose wrinkles and your eyes narrow and you, um, stick your tongue out a little between your teeth."

At his words, I suck my tongue back into my mouth. He was right. Why was he right? Did he watch me that carefully? Should that have bothered me? _Because it doesn't … not even a little._

He had this way of looking under and up at the same time, making his eyes appear bigger, embarrassed but sweet. And I set my book down because I'm tired of reading and trying. I just want to try it. Being. Being here with Brax. I stare up at him and let out a slow tentative breath.

Brax still curled his fingers in my hair, gazing down at me. His lips twisted into a cautious smile. And the way he was looking at me. I didn't know what to do with it. Where to file it. How to feel about it. Except good. I felt good.

His eyes were wide and holding me. Seeing me differently than anyone else saw me. Like I was special and beautiful and worth...

wanting...holding..._loving_

I couldn't let it go. Not that feeling. Not the way he looked at me. That night we fell asleep like that: my head in his lap, his hand in my hair.

Just me and Brax. It was the closest to peace I'd ever been.

_And it would never be that simple between us again._

When we woke up the next morning it was Christmas, Brax had a few presents under the tree as he always did. I never thought about it before. And I'm not sure why I didn't because he'd always done it. Since first year. I always had one Christmas present. From Brax.

There it was under the tree, wrapped in a green paper and tied with a twine ribbon. I smiled, my lips pressed together, suddenly feeling insecure. I hadn't gotten him anything. Then again, I'd never gotten him anything before so I didn't know why I felt so bad about it that morning.

"I didn't get you-"

Brax's lips turned up in a half smile as he placed the present in my hand. "It's fine, Riddle. Open it."

My fingers tore into the paper and slipped the gift from the wrapping. It was a torn black book with gold etching on the front.

"I was at Borgin and Burkes with my dad this summer. I saw this book and it reminded me of you.' He said all of this while staring down at his bare feet.

I scanned the title of the book. _The Dark Magic of Ancient Wizardry. _My lips stretched into a smile and looked at Brax until he lifted his gaze to match mine. "This is really sweet and thoughful, Brax. I appreciate it."

A faint blush grew on his cheeks. He looked away. So did I.

"What did you get Hermione?" he asked, standing up.

I froze, my brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Brax laughed. "You can't expect to go around licking a girl's face and not get her a Christmas present."

My mouth fell open and I stood up off the floor. "I don't _lick _her face." I shoved his arm.

"Whatever, man. I'm just saying."

"You really think I need to get her something."

"I really do." Brax sighed. "Now I have to leave."

An unusual wave of loneliness passed over me. I tried to shake it of but it was gripping into my skin, forcing me to realize just how much I'd come to count on Brax's company. "Do you really have to go?" I bit my lip as soon as the words escaped my mouth.

Those piercing grey eyes of Brax's held on me for a moment, then his shoulders relaxed. "Wish I didn't have to. But Mom and Dad want me home for the last week of break."

I nodded – unsure of what else to say. Unsure of why they wanted Brax home. He came home some Christmas and not others. But they'd never demanded he do anything before as far as I knew.

"Merry Christmas, Tom," said Brax pulling on his shoes and grabbing his traveling bag.

"Merry Christmas, Brax," I replied. Brax squeezed my shoulder, his gaze holding with mine, then walked out of the Slytherin common room.

Now I had to figure out what to give Hermione.

After Brax left, I wandered back to our bedroom. I went through all the book on the shelf because, like me, Hermione loved to read. But the majority of mine and Brax's book were about dark magic and Slytherin – all things were likely to get me slapped rather than kissed.

_Can you give a girl galleons?_

Not that I had that many galleons to give anyway. I groaned as I went through my old trunk to find nothing but socks and boxers and cotton shirts. It wasn't like I could give Hermione my boxers... although...

No. I sighed. Maybe Brax was wrong. Maybe she wouldn't be expecting anything. She probably wouldn't be because she had a negative opinion of me, but that just made it more necessary that I did give her something. That I exceeded her expectations.

My heart sank. I'd found this two summers ago when I discovered once and for all who both my parents were. Merope Gaunt and Tom Riddle. This was hers – my mother's. Her "jewelry" box. It wasn't much of anything really. It was entirely possible she built it herself out of scraps of wood. A heart with the MG plus TR was carved on the lid. I ran my fingers over the grooves, not quite knowing why but doing it anyway. I let out a long breath and pushed open the box.

A grape soda bottle cap.

A bracelet made of green twine.

Rusted copper earrings.

And

I swallowed... hanging on gold chain was a black pendant with a ruby in the center. It was oddly beautiful. I'd forgotten all about it because it didn't have any magical significance. I'd looked it up and it was sold at a shop in London where they'd sold a dozen others. But when I flipped it over it was well-worn on the back. I could tell my mom had found it very special – because from what I could gather – she found everything in this little box special.

Other than her father's ring which I wore on my finger. Everything else in the box was distinctly muggle. It probably had something to do with my dad.

I wondered what ever happened to him – she died – but where was he – and then I remember the watch. I breathed out. My father meant a lot to my mother – enough to keep all these things – and this necklace meant a lot to her – and Hermione, well, she meant a lot to me.

I flicked my wand toward an old tea cup sitting near Brax's bed and transfigured it into a lovely black box and I placed the necklace inside.

I loved Hogwarts during Christmas. It used to just be for the fact that there were so few people here. Honestly, it was still for that reason. I wasn't sure, other than a couple teachers, if there were even any other students in the castle beside me and Hermione.

She wasn't the Great Hall or in any of the corridors I walked through. I hoped she wasn't in the Gryffindor Common Room because I really wanted to see her and I didn't get in. Then it hit me where she was.

The library.

I hurried through the empty corridors until I made it to the wide doors of the library. I walked through the stacks of books, listening for any sort of sound that mind give her away.

I heard a sweet, low sigh and smiled. She was a few stacks up, sitting on a chair, one leg tucked under the other, almost totally obscured by the five dusty books piled in front of her.

"Merry Christmas," I said.

She jumped her brown eyes flashing to me. My heart jumped. It did every time she looked at me. Jumped like it was on springs. She was so intricate, complicated. Interesting. I could spend ten, fifty, a hundred years, a thousand, and never figure out every little mystery. But, Merlin, I wanted to try. More than anything I wanted to try.

"You scared me."

"I seem to do that a lot."

She looked down at her hands. "Not a much as you used to."

"I got you something."

Her eyes widened. I was right that she wasn't expecting anything – and also right that it was good idea. Okay, well, Brax was right about that.

"You did?"

I pulled a chair close to her, breathing in the scent of her hair. The box weighed heavy in my pocket and I placed it in front of her.

A shaky breath fought its way through her sealed lips then she slowly clutched the box in her hands. Her eyes lingered on me and then returned to the box that she pushed open.

"It's -" She lifted it in her hands, examining the ruby in the dim lantern light. "Beautiful."

I smiled but licked my lips, holding back the full extent of my pleasure at her enjoyment. Of course, I 'd wanted her to like it. Of course, I'd wanted her to look at me like that. With her eyes wide, swimming with questions, fighting with the answers she wanted to provide.

"It was my mother's – I – I'm not sure but I think my father gave it to her."

She swallowed, staring down at the pendant that looked at home resting against her palm. "How can I? I can't accept it."

"Yes you can. It would look lovely with your eyes and what use do I have for it?"

"I don't know, but it was your mothers."

"I have other things that belonged to her." I twisted the black ring on my finger. "This is yours now. May I?"

Tentatively, Hermione nodded. Holding my breath, I took the pendant. My fingers brushed her hair to the side of head, loving the feel of her skin against mine as I brushed over it. I leaned over, trying not look down her shirt but failing. I clipped the clasp together in the back and let the ruby fall against her chest.

"Thanks," she whispered.

"It looks lovely," I whispered in her ear. Shaking, I pressed my lips to the lobe, sucking it into my mouth briefly, licking over the gold stud in her flesh.

"Tom..." she whimpered. "Not right – I have something I need to tell you."

Hardly listening, my kisses traced down her neck. "Hmm."

"It's about your father's watch. We need to see if its been used in some sort of spell."

I paused, hovering over her skin now wet with kisses. "What do you mean?"

"Sit down. Look – I've been up all night working on this."

Torn between wanting to her and wanting to know the truth, it took all my willpower to pull my hands away and sit down in the chair beside Hermione.

"Tell me what you know."

"I can test the watch to see if it's been hexed or cursed or if there is any magic in it at all."

I nodded. "Okay." My fingers grasped my father's watch which was in my pocket and placed them on the table in front of Hermione.

With her body rigid, her eyes focused, she placed her wand on the brass watch. "If the watch has been used in any sort of magic ritual, it will glow."

"Let's see this."

Hermione whispered a long, intricate incantation. The magic sounded so alive, so intriguing, playing off her tongue and over her lips. I had to focus to control my breathing. I was so attracted, tortured, by her beauty, her control. Her magical power.

The watch started to tremble clinging on the wood desk. As Hermione breathed out the last word of the spell, the watch fell still before a nearly blinding light illuminated the darkened space and our faces.

"Do you think this means? If this was my father's... do you think it means it was actually a wizard?" My voice cracked. Something it never did. Maybe I wasn't a half-blood, maybe, maybe...

"Tom..." Hermione's eyes were unusually gentle. Warm like staring into a fireplace. "Think about that for a second."

"I am. It could mean-" Dracula's tomb... the spell... it wouldn't let me in. "Oh." The sudden excitement that rose inside me puffed away like breath in cold air.

Hermione slowly reached out and touched the back of my hand. "I'm sorry."

Tom shrugged. "What does it matter anyway? It's not like I ever met the man... so what does it mean?"

"I think it means we have to go back in the tomb."

"Why?"

"Brax took this because it had your name on it, right? There might have been other stuff down there – he passed out from the dementors before he could look around."

"My dad gave my mom that necklace. What if she gave him something in return." My mind was spinning as I thought. "What if he left before she ever got the chance to give it to him."

"Tom what are you talking about?"

"It has my dad's name on it – but what if it was my mom's? She was a pureblood. She could have gotten in to the tomb.

Hermione looked taken aback – almost scared by me. Looking back, I understand why. I was pacing my hands were shaking. I was probably talking so quickly she couldn't understand me.

"Hand me the watch!" I shouted.

"What?" she asked.

I didn't hesitate. I grabbed the watch and flipped it open. Something I overlooked. How could I have been so stupid! On the face of the watch was the date it was made. 1928.

"My mom's alive."

"Oh Tom – Tom." Hermione raised an eyebrow.

_Now I know why you were looking at me like that. You were worried about me. You knew I was seeing things where there was nothing to be seen. Wanting things that just couldn't be. You could have told me then._

_It could mean that someone else gave your father the pocket watch._

_If your mom's alive, then it meant she didn't want you... just like your father didn't want you._

_But you didn't. And that was the moment you stopped hating me – though I wouldn't realize until much later._

So caught up in the moment, in the excitement that maybe I wasn't as alone as I thought, I practically jumped on Hermione, nearly knocking her over in her chair. My arms were around her neck and we were face to face, eyes to eyes. I can remember the sadness in her eyes now even though I didn't see it then. I didn't see anything in that moment. Not even sense. I was out of control.

My mouth met Hermione's. She tensed at first but I wasn't giving up. I was so happy – excited – I needed someone to share it with. I needed it be her because she was the one who figured it out and she was so lovely, so intoxicating. I kept kissing and kissing and biting her lips. It was being set on fire, drowning in lava.

So hot. Just so, so hot.

And then she was kissing me back, pushing back. Her hands in my hair and on my face. Her breaths breathed into my breaths, mixing until my breaths and hers were the same thing.

I picked her up and sat her on the desk. My lips sucked on her neck and shoulders. My fingers worked the buttons of her blouse without thinking and she must not have been thinking either because she let me do it. She let me push the fabric off her shoulders until it was just her soft skin and curves and a black bra. Hermione grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head, exposing my bare chest.

Her fingers ran over my muscles. Igniting me. Exploding me. Every inch of me tied and twisted up in her. Pausing, I stared at her. Taking her in. She looked excited but with a hint of fear and confusion on those soft features. My fingers traced around her ribs with a slow determination until they met the clasp.

My eyes met hers, asking for permission. Her breath shook and then she nodded. The lacy fabric slipped to the floor. And that was it. She was too beautiful. I wanted her too much and with the way she was looking at me I knew she at least craved my touch, even if she didn't like me all that much as a person.

I laid her back on the desk, moving on top of her. Our bodies pressing hard against each other. It was like nothing I'd ever felt. So immediate. So overwhelming. I unzipped her skirt and started pulling it down her legs.

"T-tom," she breathed. "T-tom."

I didn't want to ask it. But I needed to. "Do you want me to stop?" I forced the words out._ Please don't make me stop. I need you._

It seemed like it took forever to answer but she finally said. "No I don't want you to stop. It's just... I've never done this before."

My body pressed down on top of hers. My lips kissed under her ear. "Me either."

"R-really?" She trembled beneath me.

"Really. So it's okay?" I asked.

"Yes, Tom," Hermione breathed and my mouth was on hers again. And I just knew it was going to be the best moment of my life.

_It was._

__**Thanks for reading. Tom goes a little over-excited, nutty in this one as he's starting to feel and the pain of losing his parents is becoming more difficult to deal with. Hope you liked the Tom/ Brax in this and the Tom/Hermione scene - and I will finish it in the next chapter because I thought it would be fun to break while they were in the middle of everything. Thanks for all reviews, follows and favorites!**


	16. Split Soul

Frantic hands grabbed at the waist band of my pants. Wild hands. Her fingers fumbled over the belt buckle. She was shaking. Shaking so hard against me that it wasn't making anything easier.

"I've got it. Calm down," I whispered in her ear, feigning composure. Really I was bursting at the seams. The very fabric of everything I'd believed about the world and about myself tearing and burning, disintegrating, with every touch and every kiss.

I unlocked my belt buckle, unbuttoned my pants and kicked them off onto the floor of the library. Gasping for breath but not wanting to resurface, I kept kissing her. My mouth covering hers. My tongue dipping inside her mouth, tasting toothpaste and lemon drops.

"Hermione," I growled in her ear. "Hermione – how do you do this to me?"

There was a long pause. "Do what?" her voice shook.

"Make me _feel_ everything_."_

Our gazes held, arresting the moment in nothing but her living, pulsing brown eyes. So dark, so mysterious – I just had to know their secrets, had to memorize every little fleck of their color until I possessed every perfect part of her.

Her lips met mine – and it was over. Over for me. Her heat enveloped us – like a melted star poured into my bones. It was so hard to remember what my life had been like before. What I had been like before. So hard to believe that I even existed before this.

My fingers hooked under the waistband of her black underwear and she gasped. Her skin there was so soft, delicate like a flower petal. I slowly tugged them down off her legs and onto the floor. My mouth went instantly dry – my body rigid, pausing to stare, to absorb.

So much better than those stupid magazine pictures the other guys were always looking at. So much better. Because Hermione was beautiful and trembling and here – here for me. I pulled the last piece of clothing down my legs and there we were. On the table in the library at Christmas. A dim light illuminating the elegant curves of her face. But Hermione's eyes squeezed shut. Her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. Her head turned to the side.

I couldn't take it.

My hand went to her face, squeezing her cheeks between my fingers. I pulled her face me. She inhaled sharply.

"Look at me."

Hermione shook her head.

I whispered in her ear, "Look at me."

Slowly her eyes peeled open. I could see the fear and desire and want in them. "Okay," she breathed.

"If we're going to do this. I want to see you. Okay? Just look at me."

Holding my breath, I pressed down between her legs. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut again. My thumbs ran over her eyelids. "No, Hermione. Watch. I'm not going to hurt you. Relax for me, darling."

She let out a long breath and, with our eyes locked, I started pulling us together. As close as I'd ever been to anyone. In my life, nothing had ever felt that good.

A tear leaked from her eyes and splashed on the table. My heart skipped. "What's wrong?"

Hermione swallowed and paused. Paused and paused and paused. "I'm scared."

"Scared of me?"

"Of us."

I pressed my lips together. "Me too. Trust me, me too." My stomach lurched. I'd forgotten – she'd forgotten._ Oh how I could I have been so stupid. _"What about – you know – getting – like you could get – _pregnant," _I whispered.

An almost invisible laugh escaped her lips. "I'm on a potion."

"I thought you'd never..."

"It's for health reasons."

I furrowed my brow. Of all of the things I knew a good deal about, women's health was decidedly not one of them.

"Oh-" I breathed, kissing her hard. Recapturing the moment, recapturing her. For a second, I thought I'd lost it but she kissed me back, opening her mouth, pulling my head in closer to hers.

"Merlin, Hermione, you're so. You feel so-" I breathed against her throat, my mind swirling, ungluing, coming apart and coming back together.

I needed her so much. So so much.

Hermione let out a muffled scream, her face cringing.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She breathed slowly. "Just slowly. Please. At first..."

I nodded and brought my lips gently to hers just holding her body to mine, loving the way we fit together.

"Okay," Hermione whispered in my ear.

"Okay." I pushed myself back up on my hand so I could look down at her. At the moving hills and valleys of her blushed body. At us. Together.

I kissed her and she kissed me and everything that had ever defined me, that had ever cut me down, made me who I was – melted away. Washed into nothingness because the world outside of Hermione no longer existed. It was me and her and moving. The rush of being so connected with another person. Utterly, unbreakably bound.

That night I went to bed, still feeling her across my skin, around me, everywhere. Still hearing her breathe my name into my ear. The next morning, things were a little more difficult. I wasn't sure how to act. If I should go find her. If I should give her something. What did a guy do after this? There were a lot of things I knew. And a lot I didn't. Most of the things I didn't know had to do with the way you should treat people you cared about it.

I ran my hands through my hair, groaning. I wished I could have asked Brax but he was still at his parent's home and would be there for until the end of break. I even considered owling him. I couldn't do that though. I knew how he felt about me... I knew he loved me and I had no idea how to tell him this... and I also knew things had become different between us.

Things that were difficult for me to explain and accept. Especially in light of last night. In light of how incredible she felt, how every part of me lit on fire at her touch. I couldn't feel that way and think of...

_The soft way Brax's blonde hair fell over his grey eyes._

_The way he looked when he'd slip out of his shirt after quidditch practice.._

_The night I'd held Brax in my arms. When he'd drifted to sleep, his face pressed my bare chest._

I grabbed a glass off my desk and chucked it hard at the wall, shattering it to pieces. What was wrong with me? I never used to feel anything – now it was like every feeling battled inside me. Lust, anger, passion, joy, obsession. I fell back on my bed, squeezing my hair. I couldn't sit in that room anymore. I had to get back out. See Hermione again maybe... work... work on the Dracula problem. I needed distraction.

I threw on my shoes and headed out of the Slytherin dormitories. I hurried down to the Great Hall where I found Hermione. She was sitting at the Gryffindor table, looking lonely, there were a few teachers at the front of the hall but they were talking to each other, absorbed in conversation. They wouldn't notice. Who cared if they did?

I slid down beside Hermione, my fingers sliding across her neck and pulling her mouth against mine. She froze. I obviously surprised her but it didn't take long for her to gently kiss me back, then slip away.

"Tom – should we really – in front of people."

I furrowed my brow. "Why not? And there's not really any people here."

"Okay – Tom – it's just."

"It's what? Merlin, I don't know. It's just. We need to work on getting into that crypt again."

I sighed. That's what I wanted anyway, wasn't it? A distraction. But I didn't expect Hermione to be acting so stand-offish. I hoped she didn't regret the night before. I certainly didn't. But what if she was having – oh what did they call them – _mixed feelings._ The truth was, I was having mixed feelings too. Not about sleeping her last night. That was an excellent decision. One I would never regret.

_I never did._

But even after everything I did with her, even after how amazing it felt. There was still something else inside of me. A warmth, a comfort, like sitting by the fire. The way Brax made me feel. I didn't understand it. I wasn't _like _Brax. My whole life I'd been attracted to women. Even if I didn't care that much for them as individuals. (Didn't care at all really). I still wanted their bodies, wanted them to want me, couldn't help but stare at them as they walked or if they bent over in a low cut blouse. I never looked at a guy like that. Sure, I appreciated the beauty of the male body, the strength in it but never like that.

Not until it crept up on me. Until I loved the feel of Brax's fingers in my hair. Until his laugh made me laugh. Until I started to let in the one person that had always been there for me. Even and especially when I didn't deserve it. Until I let him in. Now that I had, was there anyway to get him out?

_Did I even want to? I had to... right?_

Once again, I kissed Hermione. Her hand went to my hair and I sighed into her mouth. It defied logic, reason. It wasn't just lust with Hermione either. There was genuine affection. There was passion. Pride. Connection. She had stood beside, been an equal and a partner. Protecting me as much as I'd protected her. I cared for her so much.

_And I cared for Brax too._

"You're right," I blurted. "We should get to work on getting back into the crypt. I was thinking you should teach me-"

Yes. I needed that distraction.

"The patronus. I was thinking that too. It's not easy."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure I can handle it."

"We need a place to practice," said Hermione.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

She smiled and I smiled. A small moment of connection. My favorite thing with Hermione. "The Room of Requirement," she said.

We grabbed a couple muffins-

_which made me think of Brax and the time I gave him half of my muffin but I had to not think about it. I had to stop thinking about him-_

and headed through the castle to the Room of Requirement. The doors appeared on the wall and my heart skipped. I loved the mystery, the magic, of this place. I could almost feel the power pulsing around me.

Once we were inside, I looked around at the space. Simple enough. Just a few mirrors, a couch and a coffee table. Exactly what we needed.

Hermione sighed and looked at me. "You ready?"

I slid up to her, wrapping my arms around her waist, placing a dry kiss between her neck and shoulder. "We could take a little break..."

She pushed me away with a laugh. "We haven't even started yet."

"Oh yes, I forgot. Hermione Granger. Always the studious student."

"In this case I'm your teacher."

He grinned. "That sounds like fun. You going to give me detention?"

She pursed her lips, trying to look offended but I could see the blush in her cheeks. "Let's just start, okay?"

"What is a patronus exactly?" I asked.

"It's a force. A kind of magical guardian that's special to each witch or wizard. Sometimes a patronus will appear as flash of silver light." Hermione swished her wand and silver stream shot out of it like the one from the graveyard. "Other times, it will occur as full-bodied patronus. A representation of our soul." Hermione flicked her wand again and what started out as silver light, morphed and twisted in a furry, long-bodied flopping creature.

"That's your patronus?" I asked. "What is it?"

"Yes. And it's an otter."

"Your soul is an otter?"

She crossed her arms and gave me one of her signature glares. The kind that made me want to throw her down on the couch and forget all about patronuses. "Have a problem with that?"

"No. Please continue."

"The incantation is _expecto patronum. _But this spell requires more just a gesture or a few words. It requires a part of yourself. Your happiest, your best memory. You must push everything out of the way and focus on nothing else. Give it a try."

I shut my eyes. Happiest memory. Happiest... wow, I didn't really have that many. It was hard to see past all the darkness, all the difficult days of my childhood. There was that though. The day I found out I was a wizard. I was very happy that day. I focused on nothing but that. On nothing but Dumbledore's words and the way I felt at that moment. Special. Validated.

"Expecto patronum," I said. Nothing happened. "Expecto patronum." I tried again and nothing. "What's wrong? I never. I always get it on the first try."

_I got avada kedavra on the first try._

"Well this one is a bit different than the spells you are probably used to. It's a reflection of what makes us good, of our souls. The best part of us. Try again."

So I did. I tried and tried and tried. "You must be explaining it wrong."

Hermione sighed. "I'm not. What memory are you using?"

"Um... the day I found out I was wizard, why?"

Hermione shook her head, her lips in a half smile. "That's not good enough."

"Well I haven't had the happiest life, Hermione."

"It's not just about happiness. It's about goodness – it's about something strong."

I looked down at my feet thinking. Thinking and thinking. Hermione. She was... so many things to me. Crazy. Annoying. Challenging. Brilliant. Beautiful. And last night was confusing, but wonderful. Profound. Strong.

"Expecto patronum," I said and silver light exploded from the wand. My mouth fell open as pride swelled through me. Not a spell I couldn't do. I'd always known that.

"Good job," said Hermione. "Keep practicing."

So, with Hermione sitting on the couch, I kept at it. Over and over. Thoughts of being with Hermione, of our skin touching and lips kissing, - and each time a silver light would jet from my wand. But I just couldn't get the full-bodied one no matter how many times I tried.

"We can try another day," yawned Hermione.

"No. No," I said. "I'll get it." I was determined. I wanted to show her I could do it. I wanted to show myself. I adored conquering magic. It made me feel powerful.

I tried it again. And again – and suddenly without any sort of warning – a thought burst into my mind. My fingers twisted with Brax's. The tear that slipped from my eye and fell on his arm. The tear that healed him.

Then it happened. The patronus changed from a shock of light into a creature. Long and squirmy and covered with fur. It looked just like Hermione's. That was strange, I thought. But there was something even stranger. A second animal – furry and squirmy like the other.

"What does it mean that we have the same patronus?" I asked.

Hermione's eyes shot open. "What?"

"We have the same patronus and why do I have two? Is that normal?"

"WHAT?" Hermione jumped up. Her mouth and eyes widened. "How did you? What is?"

"The magical universe thinks my soul representation is two otters?"

Hermione was squinting. "I've never heard of- those aren't two otters."

"What do you mean?"

Hermione let out a short laugh then turned to me, her head tilted gently to the side. Those radiant brown eyes examined me. "One is an otter and the other... it's a ferret."

**Thanks for reading. It's taking me longer to get to the Dracula - bad things are going to start happening - part I'd mentioned earlier, but it's coming, I promise. Thanks for all the favorites and follows. I appreciate all my reviews and do respond personally to every one. Thanks again!**


	17. Pureblood Heir

I sat alone in my bedroom three days later, flicking my wand and watching the silver otter and ferret twist and flop in the air. I wasn't sure what happened. All I knew was that Hermione would barely speak to me anymore. I couldn't figure it out. She didn't know what the two patronuses meant and neither did I. Maybe that was it. Maybe she was researching, trying to figure it out.

Maybe it just meant that was I stronger, more powerful, so I had stronger more powerful patronus.

_That wasn't it._

The truth was I felt lonely and that wasn't a feeling I was used to. Not that I was used to many feelings at all. But Brax was not back from school yet, Hermione was upset with me for reasons I couldn't possibly comprehend. And there I was – after everything – as alone as I'd ever been.

Feeling particularly bored and trying to ignore the strange thoughts would occasionally leak into my mind, thoughts about Brax, I picked up one of my favorite books and began to read. Though reading looked more like flipping through pages at random. I just needed some distraction. From my concerns. My fears. My worries. But mostly my emotions. That deep ache in the pit of my stomach for two different people.

I read something about a marking spell. Magical tattoos or something. Then I read a little about werewolves. And then a couple pages on a dark locator spell. I 'd read all these things before and they did a dreadful job occupying my thoughts.

With a sigh, I slipped the book back in the bookshelf and crawled into bed. Brax would be back in the morning. Brax with those happy, relaxed silver eyes. His warm, perfect laugh. His soft touch.

I groaned, pushing my face in the pillow. _What is happening to me?_

It was Sunday when I woke up. Bright and warm in the bed. I saw a standing shadow reflected on the wall. Without being able to stop myself, I smiled, a heat in my cheeks and turned to see Brax standing by his dresser.

"Hey," I said, my voice still groggy from sleep. "You should have woke me when you got here."

Brax pressed a small smile onto his face but it wasn't open or happy. "I just got here."

"How was your break?" I asked, slipping out of bed, wearing nothing but my boxers. Brax's gaze lingered on me for a moment but quickly broke away.

He swallowed. "Alright." His voice cracked. "It was alright."

I pulled on a T-shirt. "Don't lie to me. What's going on?" My hand squeezed her upper arm and he pulled away from me. Brax had never pulled away from me before.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"I know you and you're not fine."

"Why do you care anyway?" Brax snapped, making my face harden.

My voice was stiff. Why was everyone made at me? "You know. I don't know anymore." I turned away but he caught my arm. My teeth dug into my lip as my heart beat quickened.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

I paused then looked at Brax. There was a wetness in his eyes he quickly blinked away. "Don't be it's not a big deal."

"What's not? Please Brax talk to me." My hand fell against his face, his mouth dropped open. Our eyes locked. I swore I could hear both our hearts beat.

"I'm not coming back to Hogwarts next year. As a matter of fact, I'm leaving before exams."

My hand fell away from his face. "You're kidding? What? Why?"

"Um," Brax swallowed. "Uh, it's pure blood tradition. It was – I mean it is – my father he wants me to study my last year with a tutor. I'll be seventeen in a month anyway."

A swell of anger surged in my chest. "That's ridiculous. Insane. This is Hogwarts – it's the best wizarding school in the world. It's, it's – you can't leave. I won't let you."

Brax's brow furrowed as he stared at me with a firmness I'd never seen before. "It's not really up to you."

"It's up to you!" I shouted. "Like you said. You'll be seventeen – an adult. You can do what you like. Your stupid parents-"

"They're not stupid! They're my parents – my family. I love them – and if this is what they want, what they require of a Malfoy heir-" His words cut there, staring down at his feet. He calmed himself then looked at me. "If this is what they require. Then it's my duty."

I laughed. "If that's love then I'm sure not interested in that."

"Don't do that." Brax rolled his eyes.

"Do what?"

"Act like you can just turn it off or on whenever feeling somethings suits you – or makes you feel good."

I just shook my head. "Merlin, Brax. You think I feel good? I feel awful. Like my insides are caving in on themselves and I don't know why. Why do I feel anything?" My fingers gripped into my hair, trying to calm myself.

"Tom," Brax whispered. His voice smooth, sweet, like melted chocolate. "Feeling pain is better than feeling nothing. Isn't it? Missing people, hurting for people. That's good."

"Why? How can how that be good?"

"Because it means you're alive."

"No Brax - a beating heart means your alive."

"Maybe." His hand fell on my forearm. "But it doesn't mean you're living."

"And this is living for you – doing whatever your parents."

Brax bit his lip and looked down as he said, "I'm just leaving Hogwarts a year early. I haven't been diagnosed with an incurable strain of dragon pox."

I raised an eyebrow. "You're lying to me."

"I don't have dragon pox," he started to laugh but it finished as a cough.

"That's not what I mean and you know it."

"Tom... I..."

My hand fell his hip bone, our eyes steady connected. "Tell me," I whispered.

He licked his lips, drew in breath and said, "I have to get married."

My mind went blank. Like someone just hollowed me out, left me frail and cracking on the outside. "No – what – why?"

Brax sat down on the bed. "Pureblood heir."

I feel down beside him, not breathing. "When?"

"This summer." He stared straight ahead, betraying no emotion.

"But you're just a kid."

He let out a small laugh. "Didn't you just say I was an adult?"

My shoulders slumped. "That's different."

"It's not. According to wizarding law, I'm an adult in February. My parents arranged a marriage with a pureblood family so that I will continue the family line." Everything he said sounded like it was just him repeating something he'd been told.

Without thinking, I grabbed Brax's hand and held it. He stared down at our locked fingers. "You can make your own choices. What happens if you say no."

"First, they'll disinherit me. But that's not what this about. I don't care about money. I just – I don't -" Brax's breath caught, breaking. A tear leaked from his eye and he quickly brushed it away with the hand I wasn't holding. "I don't want them to hate me. I already disgust them. I can't live with myself if I ruin everything for them." Tears started falling from Brax's eyes too fast for him to brush away.

My stomach clinched. His parents knew about him? But who told them? Avery and Lestrange... no they wouldn't be that stupid. They'd done everything I'd asked of them. Then who was it... well whoever it was I would find them and I would kill them. Very, very slowly.

"This isn't about them. It's about you. It's about your life. What you want," I said.

He shook his head. "What kind of life could someone like me have?"

"Brax," his name fell from my mouth as a soft whisper.

He was furiously wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry... I know you hate when people cry. I'm fine, really I'm fine. I'm sorry, Tom."

"Come here," I said.

His wet eyes looked at me, still so sweet and lovely, even when they were all red and puffed. "What?"

I let go his hand and put an arm around his shoulder, pulling his head into my chest. "You can cry. I know, I understand," I breathed.

I hated that Brax was hurting. It was a strange feeling for me that I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to. Feeling that kind of pain for someone else. I wanted to go find his parents and beat them senseless but if that hurt Brax...

"Why do I have to be like this? Why? It's not fair. I don't want to feel this way. I just want to be normal. I want to be like everyone else. Please God. Make it go away." He was crying so hard against me and I just kept holding him to my chest.

I placed a kiss on the top of his head, breathing in the scent of his shampoo.

"I don't want to be me anymore. I wish I didn't exist."

Those words were like a punch to my chest. He was so kind, so thoughtful and generous. Strong and good. I pulled away from Brax just enough to look at him.

"Don't ever say that," I said. "Ever again, you understand me?"

With a sniffle, Brax nodded. My hands were on his each cheek, my thumbs wet with his warm tears. His rough skin felt good under my hands. We were so close to each other - his mouth fallen open slightly. I couldn't help but stare and stare and stare at his mouth.

"We should go eat breakfast," whispered Brax, unmoving.

I nodded, swallowing hard. "We should."

"Why aren't we moving?"

"I don't know." I sighed, letting my lips graze his forehead before standing, willing my heart to stop pounding so quickly.

I looked back at Brax who closed his eyes then stood up. Something fell from his pocket. A piece of old torn parchment. I leaned over to pick it up for him. He shoved me away.

"Brax?"

"I've got it."

"What is that?" I reached for the piece of paper.

"It's nothing." He shoved the piece of paper in his pocket.

"Accio," I said pointing my wand. The parchment flew into my hands. My stomach twisted. The familiar gold writing of Count Dracula.

_Marry her, Abraxas. Do as your parents ask or I will kill them._

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I appreciate all the reviews, favorites and follows. Also, I'm curious who has been reading since I posted the first few chapters and who is a new reader so, if you get a chance, leave me a review (or message me) if you remember about what chapter you started reading on. Thanks!**

**Apologies to anyone who read the double-posted version. No idea how that happened. Should be fixed now.**


	18. Elliot

I stood there in the bedroom, my fingers grasping that enchanted piece of paper. My heart thrummed wildly in my chest. Brax waited there in front of me, his head hanging down.

"Look at me." I snapped.

His face whipped up to meet mine, a bright red on his cheeks.

"What is this?" I asked.

Brax gritted his teeth together, a sternness I'd never witnessed before. "None of your business." He reached for it and I slammed it back in his hand. I had already read it – if he wanted it so badly he could have it back.

"You're not doing this," I said.

"Doing what?"

"Marrying some idiot woman because a psychotic vampire told you to."

There was a pained silence. "That's not why I'm doing it?"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Hermione and I were getting closer. We'd figure it out – we'd stop Dracula before he ever got a chance to hurt Brax's family. Though I wasn't sure why he cared all that much for a family that didn't approve of him.

"Then why?" I snarled.

"Have you not been listening to me? Every reason I gave before this moment is perfectly valid. This piece of paper doesn't change anything."

"You're just afraid."

"Excuse me?" Brax crossed his arms.

I rolled my eyes, anger building like a thundercloud. "You can't stand the possibility that not everybody will love you and think you're perfect so you just do what everyone says. You make everyone else happy at the expense of your own happiness."

"That is _not _true. I'm trying to do the right thing. I'm trying to protect my family. To build some sort of life for myself."

Shaking with fury, I spat. "Well the right thing sucks."

The tension in the room calmed. A small smile crept its way on to Brax's lips. He probably never expected to hear _sucks_, Hermione's saying, coming from my mouth. I couldn't bear to look at him, knowing we were both thinking of her at the same time. I still hadn't told him yet.

_Now I know that this was not the time to tell him, but I didn't understand that then._

"I slept with Hermione."

The color drained from Brax's face, his bottom lip falling open. He gritted his teeth together, glancing to me and then to the parchment trapped in his fingers. "Did I ever tell you that you're a jackass?" Brax stormed from the room, slamming the bedroom door so hard it left a ringing in my ears.

I couldn't figure why Brax was so mad at me. He was my friend and I was telling him about something that happened in my life, just like had had done... then again, I had gotten mad at him for that. But Brax was never angry, at least not at me. And I had done far more thoughtless things to him than sleep with a girl, especially when he had plans to run off and marry some bimbo.

Fuming, I grabbed a book from the bookshelf hoping to distract myself. I didn't notice at first that it was one Brax had gifted me for Christmas. I just flipped through the thick pages, skimming for anything interesting.

There was a chapter on vampires. Even a section on how to become a vampire. My stomach lurched when I saw a picture in the corner. Red, gleaming eyes were the only color on the otherwise black-and-white photo of Dracula, holding a victim in his arms. Draining her blood.

I thought of Brax. Of Hermione. And slammed the book shut.

Who would have thought when Brax bought this book for me during summer that Count Dracula would end up having a personal vendetta against us? But that was the thing about the future, about life, it was hard, damn near impossible, to predict.

A renewed sense of purpose bounding through my veins, I jumped over to Brax's small desk, dipped his quill in the ink and began scribbling a list on some old parchment. We had to stop Dracula and we needed a plan. A clear one. But as I held the dripping quill over the paper I realized just how far we really were from knowing anything for sure.

With a sigh, and the excitement of the moment gone almost as quickly as it arrived, I scribbled down the only things I could think of.

_Find out what Horcrux is._

_Get back into the tomb._

_Figure out if my mom is alive._

I stared at that the last one. Did it really relate to killing Dracula? Maybe not. But it was her watch, or maybe my dad's watch, that was found in Dracula's tomb. That had to mean something.

What I needed was to find Hermione. I didn't care if she'd been avoiding me since whatever happened with the patronuses. She had to get past it and I had to get past it. I... needed her. Needed her like I never needed anyone or anything. Especially now, now that Brax- I pushed the thought from my mind and left the Slytherin common room in search of Hermione.

It was strange to see the halls filled with people again. Bustling with the sound of laughter and cloaks swishing the cold castle air. Hermione wasn't in the Great Hall or in the library. I assumed she must have been in the Gryffindor common room but would have to come out eventually so I headed up a back staircase that led to the Gryffindor dorms.

There were fewer people in this part of the castle. I'd learned the less popular routes over the years for the times when I wanted to get around unnoticed or just wasn't in the mood to feign a smile and happy face for every person I passed by.

Down the shaded corridor, I heard a commotion. Out of curiosity, I picked up my pace to see what was happening. There was a little girl crying. Tear-soaked face, she ran down the hall past me without looking or stopping.

"What am I going to do with you, boy?" the dry voice of Walter, one of the Hogwarts caretakers, buzzed down the hallway.

"Leave him alone, Walter," said a gentler, but just as annoying voice. That was Glenda – the other caretaker. They were supposedly a "team", but I'd never seen two people at each other's throats as much as those too. Especially for a so-called witch and wizard who couldn't even light a wand between them. "He just needs to talk about his feelings. Get in a nice good cry."

Glenda's wrinkled hand patted the young boy on the shoulder. Tom recognized him now from the common room, but just barely. He was a first year with dark green eyes, pale skin and a permanent scowl on his face.

"Get your hands off me you old bat! I do not need a cry." He shoved Glenda away. I could feel the anger radiating from him.

"Well now," she muttered.

"That's it, boy. Time to drag you off to the dungeons. What you need is good beating. That'll knock some sense into you."

"Walter!" she raised a hand to her mouth. "We should just turn him over to Professor Dippet. He just needs to open up.

"I DO NOT need to open up!" yelled the boy. "And if you so much as lay one finger on me." The boy pulled his wand out of his pocket and aimed it right at Walter's throat. Walter jumped back, shielding his face.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Then stepped into the open where they could see me. I cleared my throat and all three of them turned to look at me.

"Mr. Riddle." Walter winced.

"We were just going to report this," said Walter.

"Take him to Dippet's what we were going to do. _Poor lad," _sighed Glenda.

I reached into my cloak toward my wand because I knew it would scare both of them to death. If they were afraid of this first year, they'd be deathly terrified of me. "I'll take care of it," said Tom.

"But-" started Glenda.

I stepped toward them, looking as threatening as possible. "I am a prefect. I will take him to Professor Dippet. You two can move along now."

"Yes, Mr. Riddle." Walter gripped Glenda's arm and dragged her away.

I stood in the hall, looking down at the young boy, arms crossed. Neither one of us said a word until he finally spoke.

"I know who you are," he said.

"Do you now?"

He nodded then whispered. "People say you know really dark magic."

I knew better than to respond so I just looked at him.

"Show me," he demanded. "I want to learn how."

"Why would you want to learn dark magic?"

His ears turned bright red and he stared past me to the wall. "I... just want to know it." There was a cold pain in his eyes. One I recognized well.

"What'd you do to get those two morons on your case?" I asked, leaning against the wall.

He stared straight ahead, breathing hard. "Hexed this stupid hufflepuff girl."

"She deserved it?"

The boy crossed his arms. "She was a hufflepuff."

"I'm Tom Riddle," I said with a nod.

"Elliot Hamilton."

"So Elliot, what hex did you use?"

"Bat bogey hex," he grumbled.

"Not bad for a first year."

Elliot stood up straighter, his eyes narrowed, still prickly with rage. "Not bad for any year."

I eyed Elliot. Everything about him read mad. Just plain, no holds barred, angry at the universe. I knew exactly how that felt. "Yeah but bat bogey hex – a powerful wizard like you should know some good dark spells."

Elliot's little eyes lit. "Like what?" he whispered.

With a smirk, I leaned in. "I've got a great one you could have used on her. _Occulus Engorgiox. _It's a curse that inflames the whites of the eyes until the white flesh melts and oozes out."

Elliot's eyes widened, a little of the color on his cheeks draining.

"Oh. Here's another. _Marrium Incendus. _Our bones are filled with something called marrow. We need it to live. This curse sets the victims marrow on fire. It's said to be the most excruciating pain."

The little boy swallowed hard, leaning against the wall.

"And there's _Finitum Extractus."_

"Okay," Elliot's voice cracked. "That's um." The little boy's face was a sickly shade of green. He could tell the boy didn't have a stomach for the dark arts. He was just a mad kid who needed to see how serious things could get and how quickly that could happen.

"Give me something from your pockets," I asked. "Like an old wrapped or something. Scrap parchment."

Looking confused, Elliot reached into his pocket and pulled out an old piece of string.

"That'll work," I said and took it from his hand. I flicked my wand and the string transformed into an empty glass bottle. "You're angry."

"I'm not-"

"It wasn't a question," I said harshly. "You're angry. Every limb, every part of your skin feels like it's burning with rage. Like you can hardly contain it. When certain people bother you, it's like you can't contain it you just have to lash out at them even if it means getting in trouble, hurting yourself in the end. Well that's stupid and self-destruction. But it doesn't stop the anger, does it?"

Elliot's head trembled back and forth.

As hard as I could, I threw the bottle against the stone wall. It shattered into hundred of tiny little pieces. Elliot gasped.

"_Reparo. Accio." _The bottle pieces reassembled in mid-air before landing back in my hand. "Your turn?"

Cautiously, Elliot took the bottle, stared down at the distorted glass then chucked it against the stone, breaking it. He let out a long breath. I fixed the bottle and handed it to Elliot again. He chucked the bottle even harder. We did his over and over. I could see sweat forming at his temples, where his hair met his skin. Over and over. He threw the bottle against the wall, letting the tension out, the anger.

Suddenly, Elliot just snapped. "Leave – her – alone – you – stupid – evil – man. Stop – it. Don't – hit – my – mum." He wasn't breaking the bottle anymore. His tiny fists pounded against the stone, cutting into his hands. Elliot turned wild, flailing and flopping. My arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him away from the wall. He struggled in my grip.

"Hey, kid, calm down!"

"Don't – kill – her." Elliot's voice cracked then he whispered. "He killed her."

Elliot let out a long breath, eerily calm. I slowly backed away from him. The boy scratched his head then looked up at me. "Thanks," he muttered. "You're the first person who actually helped."

With that the boy turned and left me in the corridor.

"Tom?" a voice called from the shadows.

I looked to my right and saw Hermione, her hair cascading around her shoulders and indeterminable look on that rounded face.

"What are you doing?" I asked as she slowly stalked toward me. I breathed in her rose garden scent, pushing every other thought from my mind. I hadn't been this close to her in days.

"I heard you."

My mind flashes will all the dark spells I'd told Elliot. All of them ones I'd done myself at one time or another. Hermione was a lot of things, but dark was not one of them. She had crafty, cunning side but it was a muted darkness.

"Hermione let me explain-" But I never got the chance.

Her lips attacked mine. Forceful, almost painful. Hands gripped my hair and I grabbed her waist, spinning her around and slamming her against the stone wall.

"What's with you – not that I'm complaining."

"You helped that little boy." Each word was punctuated by kiss against my mouth, my cheek, my neck.

"I should be helpful more often."

"Yes," said Hermione, hooking her arm around my neck. I lifted her legs to wrap around my waist and kissed her with all the strength I had. "It's quite the turn on," she finished.

I pressed against her, running my hand up her thigh. Wanting her, but needing to know the truth. "You've been ignoring me," I breathed, my lips moving to her neck.

She let out a small whimper. "I've been busy."

"Liar," I growled in her ear.

"I didn't know what to say to you. We swore to ruin each other's lives – remember?"

I let out a laugh. "I'm pretty sure you've already ruined me."

She smiled and kissed my mouth. "Don't give me credit for the devil's work."

"You know, Hermione, nobody comes down this hallway. What'd you say?"

Her eyes widened. "R-right here. In the hallway."

"We did it in the library last time. That's not the most private place-"

Hermione licked from my neck to my ear, sending jolts through every inch of my body. She reached into her cloak, removed her wand and cast muffliato and several protection spells that would obscure them from

"Where'd you learn magic like that?"

"Camping," she replied.

It was a strange answer but I didn't care. I just wanted her. All of her. The heat. The fire. I didn't care what it cost me. What the risk was. Because nothing compared to her soft skin against mine, the smell of her hair. The way she shouted my name, breathed in my ear. Made every sense come to life. She was intensity. Overload. Explosion after explosion after explosion – and I had every intention of breaking into pieces.

And I did – and so did she.

**Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the Hermione/Tom scene at the end of this since we didn't have any last chapter. Also, Elliot is going to make some more appearances but Tom should be careful who he "befriends" when an evil vampire is plotting against him. Please review - it means so much to know what you're thinking.**

**P.S. Next chapter everything is going to get blown to hell. You can thank Dracula for that. **


	19. Enemies of the Heir

"Tom, we should get going," breathed Hermione with my lips against her neck. We had been studying about Dracula and vampires in the Room of Requirement but, for the last few weeks, we'd been having trouble keeping our hands off each other whenever we were alone together. Not that I was complaining.

"What possible reason would we have for that?" I pushed her back on the couch, hovering over her, our mouths meeting in a fierce kiss.

"People are going to wonder where we are."

I laughed. "Who is going to wonder that? If you haven't, noticed neither one of us has very many friends."

"What about Brax?"

I growled, not wanting to think about Brax right then for more than one reason as I pressed my body hard against Hermione's. "He's still pissed at me."

Hermione grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back. "You should talk to him."

"He's being irrational." My fingers went to the buttons on her blouse. Hermione tugged them away.

"You're not going to distract me with sex. He's your friend and he needs to know you support him."

I slid my hand up her thigh. "But I _don't_ support what's he doing."

"I'm not a huge fan of it either but it's not really our business. It's his decision and as his friends it's our job to support him."

I groaned, kissing Hermione roughly again. "You're obnoxiously persuasive."

With a laugh, she rolled me off her. I caught myself on the coffee table, somehow managing not to fall on the floor.

"I have to go. I promised to help one of my housemates with their arithmancy homework," she said.

I stood up and wrapped my arms around Hermione's waist, bringing her sweet tasting lips in for one long kiss. She felt so perfect in my arms, like she was designed to be there. Designed to belong to me. "See you later, dear," I whispered.

Her eyes were narrowed, her head slightly turned down as she slipped away from me. "Talk to Brax."

"I will."

She smiled, snatched up her books and swept out of the Room of Requirement.

That was the happiest I'd ever been in my life. The only thing that could have made it better was if Brax and I hadn't been fighting. But that was the next step to this newly perfect life I was building.

Make amends with Brax.

_But how quickly happiness can slip away the moment you catch it in your fingers._

When I entered the Slytherin common room, it was almost entirely empty save for a small first year with dark hair and pale skin, reading a book.

"Afternoon, Elliot," I said.

"Oh, hello Riddle." His small eyes peered up from the book.

"Have you seen Brax?"

He nodded. "Yeah. He left a few minutes ago with some blonde girl. Lila. Lola."

I hissed through my lips. "Leila." If Brax was spending time with Leila, things were sure looking badly for him. I couldn't let him waste away with that moron. I wanted my friend back. "Do you know where they went?"

Elliot rolled his eyes. "_Somewhere private to talk_. Her words."

I let out an indignant huff of air. I really didn't like Leila and I knew Brax felt the same way about her. She was insipid. What would she need to talk about in private anyway?

"Thank you." I considered waiting in the common room for Brax to return but I didn't like the thought of him out there somewhere enduring some sort of Leila nagging session. "See you at dinner, Elliot," I said then turned and left the common room.

Since I'd met Elliot in the corridor, he'd spent some time with Hermione, Brax and me. When we were alone Brax was still mad at me, but he wanted to help with the Dracula stuff and was still friends with Hermione. He was an alright kid. Smart, even talented.

I searched the school for Brax and Leila. The library. The Great Hall. A couple of abandoned classroom. Nowhere. I was about to give up on finding them when I heard a voice down the hall. Two voices actually.

Leila and Brax stood close to each other in a dark alcove. Brax's face was red and his hands were squeezing his hair. Of course, I shouldn't have listened in but there was no way I wasn't going to. I quietly cast a silencing charm around me and stayed hidden behind the corner.

"We need to start acting like we're together," she snapped.

_Together? What?_

"Leila- you've told me this a hundred times."

"I don't care! Maybe you'll listen on the hundred and first. If we suddenly announce we're getting married this summer after hardly speaking to each other for seven years. People are going to ask questions and not just about me."

My stomach churned. Of all the women in the world... why, why, why did Brax have to marry Leila? Did his parents really hate him that much? I was so mad I wanted to go over there and shout "Avada Kedavra" and take this whole stupid marriage thing off the table. He shouldn't be marrying her... he shouldn't be marrying anybody...

"I agreed to this marriage because it's what is best for both of us. Contrary to popular belief I'm not stupid. You come from the most powerful and richest wizarding family in the world. I'd be a romantic fool not to marry you. And that is one thing I certainly am not."

There was a long pause. "Fine. Holding hands, carrying books, a peck on the cheek. But only in public."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself." With that, she stormed down the staircase. Brax groaned and leaned against the wall.

"Brax," I whispered, appearing from my hiding place.

"Tom." He sighed, scowling. "Were you listening in?"

"No."

"Why do you always have to lie?" he snapped.

"I got off to a bad start."

Brax tried to walk past me but I caught his arm. "I wanted to-" The word had trouble making it out of my throat.

"Wanted to what?"

"Apologize."

His body relaxed under my touch as he turned toward me. "For what?" he asked impatiently.

"For getting upset with you. For yelling at you. I'm sorry. I still don't like this. I think it's insane. Now that I know it's Leila I think it's the craziest damn thing I've ever heard."

"Tom," he grumbled.

"But." My hand lifted to his chin, forcing him to look at me. "I'm on your side. Whatever that means."

Brax's lips stretched into a smile. "Thanks, Riddle."

"Of course, Malfoy." I smirked.

We were standing the hallway, my heart pounding, fingers tingling where they touched his skin. I tore my hand away trying to figure out how to breathe again.

"I have to go," said Brax. "Quidditch practice. See you tonight." He passed me, his fingers trailing down the edge of my arm to my palm to my fingers. I squeezed his hand then let him jog down the stairs the same way Leila had gone.

I reclined against the wall, happy that things had been somewhat mended with Brax, though I still wanted to find a way to stop him from marrying Leila, and I had Hermione in my life. The most beautiful, intelligent girl I'd ever met. I wondered if she was done with her tutoring session. Another meeting in the Room of Requirement sounded like a perfect way to pass the weekend afternoon.

As I was heading toward the Gryffindor common room, I heard a scream. I stopped in my tracks, part of me, the old part of me, saying just to move on and another part of me, called me toward the sound. It could have been Dracula...

_It wasn't. I wish it had been._

Wand out, I headed toward the sound of the screaming. The screaming that was somehow familiar. The screaming that didn't want to stop.

I turned the corner and my whole body seized. The girl shouting was Hermione, her hands clasped over her mouth, eyes wild and worried. She'd never reacted like that before. Never – and they'd seen a lot together. She'd always taken it so calmly. Always strong. Always the leader. I couldn't imagine what could have upset her so much.

_Me._

I ran to her. "Hermione, what's wrong?" She screamed and pushed me away. "What happened?"

She stood there still, trembling, eyes focused. I turned towards the wall and saw it written across the stone in blood.

_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir Beware._

My mind flashed with thoughts from the summer before I'd met Hermione. I'd learned about the Chamber under the school before I'd left Hogwarts from the summer. Learned about the entrance in the bathroom. About the basilisk. I had every intention on opening it this year. But that was before...

It didn't make sense though. Only the heir of Salazar Slytherin should be able to open the Chamber. It should only be me – and I didn't.

"It's okay, Hermione. We'll figure it out. We'll fix it. Don't worry." I reached out to her and she slapped my hand away. She no longer looked scared. She looked angry. Angrier than I'd ever seen her.

"I trusted you," she spat through closed teeth.

"What are you-"

"I let you." She swallowed, looking down. "Touch me." The disgust on her face made me feel sick. I had no idea what was happening.

"I don't understand, Hermione." I tried to hold her hand. Maybe if we could touch. I could draw her back to me, make her see.

"You're the only one that could have opened the Chamber of Secrets. The Gaunts are descendents of Slytherin. You speak parseltongue. You can control the basilisk! Can you explain that?"

"How do you know so much about the Chamber?"

Her face hardened. She pulled her wand out and pointed it at me. "Wrong answer."

"It wasn't me!" I shouted.

"Shut up! Just shut up! All you know how to do is lie."

Now I was getting angry. There was no worse feeling than this. Being trapped. It was like being in the cold orphanage again, the cement walls pressing down on me. "If you would shut up and listen to me. We could fix this." I reached to arm, trying to get her to put her wand down.

"Don't touch me!" snarled Hermione. "You will never touch me again." She paused, her gaze training on me. "I _hate _you."

You did hate me. I could see it. I could practically feel it pouring off your skin, drowning me. I just stood there in the hall, crushing, crushing, crushing under the weight of losing her. For something I didn't do – something I didn't understand. The pain broke loose, a cannon ripping through my flesh.

I let out a shout and then slammed my fist against the stone wall. Just punching it over and over and over. Like Elliot had but there was no one to pull me back. It hurt. Merlin it hurt like hell. Skin tearing open, scraping into my tissue. Harder. Harder. Harder until I couldn't feel the pain anymore because the pain was everywhere. All consuming. Unending. Eternal, inescapable misery.

I didn't even know my face was wet with tears. It wasn't even from sadness. It was pain. I had broken every bone in my left hand.

Suddenly, it was different. Like a sheet of ice freezing over my skin. Just howling wind in a lifeless tundra.

I pulled my wand out of my pocket and flicked it over my left hand, mending the bones. I had been smart enough to learn healing spells since Dracula's attack.

Feeling the overwhelming pain fade into an ache, I slowly headed back to the Slytherin dormitories. Trying to understand how the Chamber of Secrets could possibly be open – how Hermione could have assumed so quickly that it was me. How everything wonderful in the world could just flash away in an instant, leaving you just as hollow as ever.

There had to be an explanation. We just had to find it. Hermione and I could go to the library- my stomach sank. For the first time in my life, I'd had a partner, someone I could count on to fight the hard fights with me and now she was gone. Now I was the enemy.

Stone-faced, I walked past everyone in the common room, ignoring the chatting and the occasional laugh. I walked into the room, lighting on small candle on the desk with a flick of my wand and laid on top of the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to keep the pain out, but feeling it slowly seep in.

Everything hurt. Every inch of my skin burned with anger. My stomach felt hollow but heavy. It was like drowning, like struggling through thick black ink. Clawing against the pillows pushing down on my face, suffocating me.

I couldn't breathe. My lungs felt like charred wood. It was so much, too much. It felt like going crazy. I had to push it out, shut it off, but I wasn't sure how. I stared and stared and stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks, wondering what it would feel like to disappear between them.

How could Hermione turn on me like that? How could she not trust me?

_I once tried to kill her... but she doesn't know that._

I wanted to scream. To scream until I shattered like glass but when I opened nothing came out. It was like I'd swallowed a black hole. I was no longer bones and blood and tissue but a swirling abyss of despair.

The door squeaked open. A face appeared in the shadows, blonde hair and ash-colored eyes glimmering in the firelight. Brax shut the door behind him and locked it.

My lips tried to form words but nothing came out. My eyes just flicked to him. He didn't say anything either. We just waited there him standing, me lying on the bed, trying to say a million things in the silence.

Finally the words tripped from my mouth. "It wasn't me."

"I didn't think it was." Brax stepped closer and I couldn't take my eyes off him as he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor.

"What if it was?" I whispered. There was another question tucked between the letter.

_Would you leave me too?_

His lips stretched into a thin line I could barely see in the dim light of the bedroom. "I'd still be here."

I shut my eyes, feeling that pained emptiness swell up inside me again. It was the worst I'd ever felt. I had no idea that hurt could feel like this.

After everything that had happened, Dracula, the assault from Avery and Lestrange, his parents finding out the truth about him, this arranged marriage, I thought Brax would have fallen apart. But when I saw him standing there, back straight, head tilted down just slightly to look at me. There was strength in him I'd never noticed before. Steel. The difficulties in Brax's life hadn't broken him at all, they hadn't made him weak. They made him strong.

He was still the boy who'd secretly taught me to ride a broom because I didn't want anyone know I wasn't very good at it; the boy who knew every house elf by name; and the boy who always bought me a Christmas present even though I was an asshole to him half the time just because he knew it would be the only gift I received.

That was when I realized it wasn't Brax who had changed. It was me. He'd always been strong. I just hadn't been able to see it. But I saw it then. Like a ray that broke away from the sun and lit up everything with white-hot light.

"What?" asked Brax, a goofy smile on his face.

"Nothing," I managed to say. When he turned towards his bed, I caught his arm without thinking.

Our eyes locked and I didn't have to say anything. He just let out a long sigh, a hint of sadness in his eyes, like a reflection of the crippling sadness inside me. Brax slowly slid into the bed, his head falling to the space between my arm my shoulder.

My voice cracked as I let something out I'd never thought I'd say. Something I could never admit to anyone else but Brax because I trusted him. "I was falling in love with her and she just- Love is foolish. It's weakness."

Brax's hand brushed across my cheek – my breath lodged in my chest. "Tom-"

"I'm sorry. I'm being weak."

His thumb fell to my bottom lip – heat burned in the pit of my stomach. "You're wrong, Tom."

When I tried to protest, Brax's hand pressed harder to my lips. So hard I could taste his skin.

"When I look at you, right now, I know that you've never been stronger." His hand slipped from my mouth, down my neck to my T-shirt. I wrapped my arm around his bare back and held him to me.

It didn't make the pain go away but there was something warm, pulsing, working its way through my limbs to my chest.

Hope.

**A/N: So... Hermione thinks Tom opened the Chamber and he has no way of proving he didn't. At least not yet. But who is doing it and why? (You can probably guess who, but how?) Anyway, thanks for reading and please review. It's going to get pretty dark over the next few chapter so brace yourselves. Thanks!**


	20. So Long Malfoy

I woke up with Brax in my arms the next morning. And the day after that and the day after that. I wasn't sure what was happening I just knew we both felt better near each other.

Especially after the worst happened. The attacks stopped.

I know, I know, it sounds like a good thing and I guess it was for all those people that could have been killed, but for me it was terrible. If Hermione wasn't a hundred percent convinced I was responsible for before, she was now. What other reason would the person who opened the Chamber have for not releasing the basilisk? Unless... there was no proof the Chamber had ever been opened. Someone could have written those words without ever having to open the Chamber of Secrets. But I knew that even this was not enough to convince her. She looked at me with absolute loathing.

I tried talking to Hermione again, explaining that someone else was doing it, but I had no proof it wasn't me. All I had were pale excuses and she was doing everything she could to avoid me.

When I was coming back from lunch, I ran into her in the hallway. She picked up her pace, but I hurried to catch her.

"Hermione will you please listen to me?"

She kept walking. "I won't be alone with you."

I rushed up and blocked her path. "You think if someone else was there they could stop me?"

Her already angry face turned red. "Once again you say the wrong thing."

"Tell me what to say and I'll say it."

Her shoulders slumped and, for a brief moment, I thought I was getting through to her but she said, "Tell me we never met." A tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She wiped it with the back of her hand then ran from me.

I didn't try to talk to her again until a week before exams. They day after Brax came into our bedroom holding a small brass object in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Tom," said Brax as he placed my father's pocket watch in my hand. "She said she forgot she had it." It felt cold against my skin, sad even. Brax squeezed my fingers then backed away. Having that watch back was physical evidence that Hermione was never, ever coming back. That she had thrown me away.

Brax undressed, slipping his Slytherin tie from his neck, unbuttoning his shirt and stepping out of his pants. My eyes felt heavy as I watched him. His fingers ruffled his hair and he yawned.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just thinking."

I _was_ thinking. Thinking about the shape of his hip bones and the curve of his biceps and how it would feel to run my fingers down his chest.

Brax slid into bed and my eyes glanced briefly at my own, but it wasn't going to happen. I knew I was going to lie down next to him and I did.

He turned over with a shaky sigh and I pulled him into my chest. "I really am sorry about Hermione."

"That's okay. She was just a distraction," I said.

"No she wasn't," Brax muttered, but before I could argue he fell asleep against me. I'd always envied his ability to fall asleep the minute he laid down. The only time that wasn't true was in the weeks following the Avery-Lestrange attack. Though I wasn't sure how he could sleep now. He only had a few days before he had to leave. Just a month before he had to get married.

_To someone else, _I thought, not sure why. But he would be gone soon – and I would be alone again. I was used to being alone. I had been alone my whole life. It was good thing, I told myself, with less people around I could work on the plans I'd had before this year. The ones that had always defined me before Brax and Hermione did.

To find a way to become immortal. To rid the world of our non-magic oppressors. But even I thought those things they seemed hollow like trying to hold on to some long forgotten memory.

The next morning Brax and I got dressed for class. He always kept his uniform tie knotted so he could slip it over his head without actually tying it since he'd never been able to figure out how to tie a tie.

I glanced over my shoulder, noticing that it was untied. I was about to go over and help when Brax's hands twisted the fabric into a perfect triangle knot and pushed it up around his neck.

I wasn't sure why it affected me so much, but I bit down on my lip, thinking of how much things had changed. How we'd all become new people over the years, how we could never return to what it was like before. In that moment, all I wanted was to turn back time. Back to the beginning of the year. Back to when I saw Brax approach me on the Hogwarts Express. Back when he was Malfoy and I was Riddle. I wanted him to be that carefree kid again with grey eyes and a swing-band laugh. The kid that had no idea how to tie his own tie. But no matter how hard I tried to stop it, the world kept spinning and I was powerless to stop it. The idea crossed my mind that even if I couldn't stop the world maybe I could freeze us. The two of us forever the same in an ever-changing world.

He turned around and smiled at me.

"He's all grown up," I said, forcing humor into my voice.

Brax blushed, stared down at his feet then looked back at me.

_Merlin, I loved to look at him._

"Come on," I said. "Let's go to class."

We were in the first few classes together and I tried to hold onto every moment I could. He was leaving so soon and I could feel the normalcy of Hogwarts slipping away from me. It would never be the same without Brax. In my life he had been the one true consistency.

I walked away from Brax when I headed to ancient runes. Hermione kept, as she always did now, in a large group of Gryffindors as far away from me as possible. Still at the last second I saw her brown eyes flicker to me like a photograph from a time long past that hardly seemed real anymore.

A time where I felt her supple skin beneath my fingers. Where I tasted her toothpaste on my tongue and counted her heartbeats.

Feeling like ice was being poured into my bones, I tensed, reaching into my pocket where I'd put my father's watch. As I ran my fingers over the metal, I thought of what it would be like to find him. I'd made plans to do that before. But for _different_ reasons. I'd wanted to hurt him. Now I just wanted to see him. But how could I want that? It was weak and stupid to want that. When I thought about how much I changed, it almost made me sick. But then it just felt real – like a part of me I had to stop denying. It was like dangling from a pendulum swinging from one side to the other, unsure of where I stood on any given day.

Then I saw her. A lump, a black, stiff as steel object in my path. I hurried to see what it was. Blonde hair, blue eyes, yellow and onyx tie. She wasn't dead though, just frozen, petrified. I wasn't sure how that happened. Maybe it wasn't what I thought it was. One look for a basilisk was supposed to kill a person. I tried the counter-curse for Petrificus Totalus but the girl didn't wake. That was when I realized she was the Hufflepuff first year that had been running from Elliot all those months back.

But it couldn't be Elliot, could it? First of all, that would make Elliot related to me. Second of all, he was so young – and hadn't shown much interest in the dark arts since I shocked some sense into him in the hall the last time Hermione and I ever-

Besides, Elliot was around a lot. He ate lunch and dinner with Brax and me. When he wasn't there, he was in the common room.

I heard a scream behind me and stood up to see Hermione and her gang of Gryffindors.

"What did you do?" she shouted shrilly.

"I just found her. She's alive. Someone run and get a professor. Now," I commanded and though most of the Gryffindors just glared at me, one younger looking boy nodded and ran off.

"How could you, Tom? You disgusting-"

"I'm done defending myself, Hermione. I didn't do this. You can believe what you want but that's the truth. Meanwhile, I am a prefect and you cannot speak to me like that."

Hermione's jaw clamped together. We were as close as we'd been in months. Toe to toe almost. I had to fight the urge to clamp my mouth down on hers. Kiss, kiss, kiss her until we both just disappeared.

"What's happened?" Slughorn called as he came clomping down the hallway.

"I found this girl here, sir. She's alive but she's been frozen. I tried the counter-curse for petrificus totalus but it didn't work."

"Thanks, Tom. I'll take it from here. The rest of you kids move along." Slughorn nodded his portly head.

I passed Hermione and, as I did, she hissed, "I'm not going to let you get away with this."

My hand reflexed toward my wand. I was exhausted with fighting her – I just wanted... it killed me to say it but if she was just going to hate me, to blame me for things I didn't do, I just wanted her gone. Because being around her felt like being suffocated in lava.

The next day there were two more attacks. Both petrified just like this girl. It was nearing the end of the year, so they were planning to just get through exams and send everyone home. Or in my case the orphanage. My stomach lurched. It was Hermione's case too. I'd almost entirely forgotten we'd both come from Wool's.

I was so distracted with the attacks and with the hissing voice of parseltongue I started to hear in the halls that I'd completely forgotten what day it was.

The last day. Brax's last day. I was heading to the library to do some research on Dracula's crypt. I was seventeen now and could use magic outside of school. The time I'd spent at Wool's for the last summer would be minimal. With that one thought, the library, Dracula, none of it mattered. All that mattered was the best friend, the only true friend I'd ever have, leaving to marry a girl he didn't like and hardly knew. Leaving me.

I rushed back through the Slytherin common room and pushed open the door to the bedroom.

Moonlight leaked in through the windows, spilling over the green cotton linens on the bed. Brax leaned against the wall near his emptied out dresser. He was dressed to leave in black slacks, a white button-up, a grey wool vest and a tie he'd tied himself. He'd combed his usually messy hair and looked older, more handsome than ever. Everything Brax had brought to school, all his possessions were packed away in his trunks and stacked on a cart in the corner.

My stomach turned. He really _was _leaving. In all my life, he'd been the only person I'd ever counted on, even if only a little. Brax was the only person I'd ever truly trusted to be on my side. Always.

Without a word, I stood there, watching his silver eyes scan the room. When he finally realized, I was there, he jumped back startled.

"Merlin, Tom. I didn't see you." He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up. A smile tugged at my cheeks but I fought it. My eyes locked with his as I stepped into the room, closing the door behind me.

"Are you leaving now?" I asked walking toward him, feeling a tightness in my chest.

He swallowed. "Yes."

"Oh..." I wasn't sure what else to say but I felt the strangest urge to keep moving toward him. An unstoppable pull.

The smile on Brax's face melted as sadness pushed its way onto his features. "It's just – Leila can't stand me and I don't care for her either. It's strange to think that I'm going to go my whole life never being kissed by someone I want... someone who wants me."

My heart started beating faster and I took a deep breath. I remembered sitting in that hallway during the Slug Club. When I'd learned he was in love with me. I'd kept my knowledge of his feelings from him but I couldn't wait any longer. There was no time left to wait. I had to admit the truth. "I need to tell you something. This isn't easy for me...I know how you feel about me and I've known for quite some time – and you know how I feel about Hermione but-"

_She left me and you – you stayed._

He squeezed his eyes shut, looking embarrassed. "Tom. I can explain-"

"Just listen." I was less than a foot away from him. I could smell his spicy cologne and see his body tense. It was my only chance and had to grab it. "I'm not going to let you go your whole life without... I care for you and I admire you. Your joy, your compassion, even your ridiculous sense of family duty. Everything you are that I'm not." He was staring at the ground so I placed my fingers under his chin and lifted his eyes to mine. "Abraxas Malfoy – you are one hell of a man."

Shaking, I placed my hand on his cheek. He shuddered.

"Tom?"

"Shh." I pressed his body flush, but gently against the wall. There was no fighting it anymore. Nothing stopping me. Brax inhaled sharply. I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. My eyes shut and he tensed around me. He didn't breathe or move. But I kept moving my lips softly against his and, eventually, he sighed. His body relaxed and he leaned into me, finally kissing back. A warm, intimate perfection. Like chocolate and peppermint.

I held one hand on his neck, running my thumb over his skin and snaked an arm around his back. He placed a hand in my hair and one on my hip. It wasn't like when I kissed Hermione. Full of heat and passion and anger – but Brax's kiss was packed with comfort and acceptance. Hogwarts was the one place that had ever felt like home to me. As I kissed Brax, tasted his lips and his tongue, I realized it wasn't the magic or the freedom that made Hogwarts. It wasn't this place at all. It was Brax. He was my home.

I never wanted to pull away, but eventually I did, holding onto his bottom lip for an extra second, trying to keep that feeling alive as long as I could.

I pressed my lips to his ear, breathing in the familiar scent that was just Brax. "You don't have to do this. I can stop him... I can do something-" I felt desperate to keep him. Like I'd unravel without Brax to hold my strings together.

"Are you going to rescue me, Tom? Are we going to ride off into the sunset together?" I could hear the sadness in the laugh that followed these questions.

"I don't know..." And I didn't. I just knew I wanted to kiss him again, wanted to make him happy. With my mouth still pressed to his ear I said something I had said months before but this time it was no joke. I meant every word. "You're beautiful, Brax."

He shivered and so did I, our bodies shaking and beating together.

Slow, slow, slow I leaned in, my lips painting against his, my fingers tangled in his hair. His hand fell against my chest. I wanted our mouths together again – I didn't know why or how. But I wanted it. Badly.

"Don't. Please," begged Brax, his voice cracking. "Tom, if you kiss me again, I'll never let you stop."

My heart was beating so fast I almost didn't listen, almost kissed him anyway, almost picked him up and laid him on my bed. I almost just didn't give a damn.

Breathing heavily, a sudden desire rushed through me – a darkness – a need to possess this man, to never lose him. I slammed Brax against the wall. Hard. Then buried my face between his neck and his shoulder, trying to maintain control.

"Hold on to me," I growled.

"What?"

"Hold on to me." I ran my hand down his arm and tangled my fingers with his, pinning him against the wall. My other hand slipped into my coat pocket and removed my wand. I pressed it against the bare flesh of his inner arm. I had been reading that book Brax gave me for Christmas. I'd read it several times now. This spell was dark and complicated but it would be easy for me.

"What are you-"

"Don't let go. Promise me, Brax, that no matter what, you won't let go of me."

His voice shook. He shook. I shook. The whole damn universe shook. "I won't let go."

I pushed the wand hard into his arm, my lips playing over whispered parseltongue. Brax groaned in pain, gritting his teeth together. He jerked, but I just squeezed his hand tighter and pressed my body against his. I could feel the magic pouring out of me, meeting with his, connecting us.

When it was over, I tore my wand away.

Brax's legs buckled. He tumbled into me, so I wrapped my arms around him and held him.

"What happened?" he whispered, gaining strength and standing on his own. He looked down at his arm. Where pure white skin had been, was now a dark mark, a skull and snakes, _my mark_.

"If you ever need me – just press your wand to that mark and I'll be there." I brushed my fingers through his hair, taking in the smooth curve of his lips, the slight blush on his cheeks.

_I wish I would have kissed you again._

Brax smiled at me, his eyes wet, but his back straight. He was determined to do this. "Thank you." He grabbed the cart of his things and pushed it toward the door, then turned back to me. "You should tell Hermione how you feel. No games. You both deserve to be happy." He smiled and I took that moment to take in just how sweet and warm and innocent he was. "So long, Riddle," he said with an ache in his voice.

He disappeared through the door.

With a groan, I collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "So long, Malfoy."

**A/N: Whew... so I hope you all saw that last scene coming. I feel like I built it up pretty well. Sorry for the lack of Tom/Hermione but she kind of hates him right now. lol. Next chapter we will find out just who opened the Chamber and for what nefarious reason. Thanks for reading and please leave a review.**


	21. Blood

Chapter Twenty- One

_Dear Tom,_

_I miss Hogwarts. I miss the feasts, and quidditch, even the professors and the homework. But mostly I miss you – but you know that. I guess you've known that for awhile. Anyway, it's been strange here. Father won't look me in the eye and Mother cries almost every time I'm in a room with her. At least, Leila and her family aren't here yet. They arrive in a couple weeks to start preparations. It all seems a little too much - like we're readying ourselves for war instead of a wedding. Doesn't make much different to me. The wedding is in mid-July, just a month and a half away. It's customary for the bridal party and close friends to spend two weeks at the groom's home before the wedding and I know I never asked, and I know it's a lot to, but would you be my best man? It would mean everything to me. If you and Hermione manage to make up by then, bring her as well. I'd love to see her. (I'll write to her too). I know I already said it but I miss you – so much it's hard to breathe sometimes. Hope to see you soon._

_Yours always,_

_Brax_

It was the fifth time I'd read the letter. I still couldn't believe Brax was getting married so soon. Ever since we'd kissed, I couldn't get the feel of lips, the imprint of his hands against my skin, out of my head.

My fingers were wrapped around a quill, dipped in ink. Holding my breath, I started to compose a letter to him.

_Dear Brax,_

_It's odd here without you. I don't have anyone to talk to besides Elliot – though he's not the worst company. In some ways he reminds me of you, in other ways of me. Hermione still refuses to talk to me. I think it's about time to give up. You know how I feel about your marriage to Leila. I don't think you have to do it. I think we can find another way, but if it's your choice, I will accept that and I will support you. So, yes, Brax, I will be your best man and I will come to Malfoy Manor before the wedding. Also, I need you to know something. It's hard for me to admit but I miss you too. I know what you mean about not being able to breathe. Can't wait to see you._

_With great affection,_

_Tom_

Quickly scanning over the words, I folded up the letter and sealed it shut. I slipped it in my pocket to take to the owlery. As I turned and saw Brax's empty bed and closet, my stomach twisted. It was strange how much I'd come to count on his presence. So calming, reassuring. My anchor that kept me gravity bound.

Ignoring the ache spreading through my body, I left the Slytherin dormitories and wandered through the bustling castle to the owlery where I attached the note to Brax's owl who was still there. I wondered if Brax had somehow asked him to wait for my reply. I smiled at the thought as I headed back down the steps, letting the late spring sun warm my face.

Exams were over – we finished them early because of the Chamber of Secrets issue. Still, no one beside that one girl had been hurt by the basilisk. It was the first time I wasn't entirely disappointed to be going back to Wool's. Even though Hermione would be there, I'd learned Elliot would be too since his parents were dead and it would only be a few weeks before going to Malfoy Manor and spending time with the one person I wanted more than anything to be with at that moment. Brax.

I rounded the corner into the castle and was about to head down the stairs back to the dormitories to start packing my things for summer when I saw Elliot stream around the corner, his face pinched up in fear. He was running so fast he slammed right into me.

"What is going on?" I said, nearly shouting as I held him back by the shoulders.

"Riddle. I was looking for you," Elliot panted. "Remember how you told me to keep an eye on Hermione."

My heart skipped. "Yes."

"Well, there was another one... this one... it was a Gryffindor fifth year. She was," Elliot swallowed, "dead. They found her in the girl's bathroom."

"What does this have to do with Hermione?" I asked impatiently.

"I just saw her go up there with a sword. I followed her and was just... gone."

"That's impossible. You have to speak parseltongue to get into the Chamber. Hermione is a muggleborn. She doesn't speak parseltongue," I shouted, absentmindedly digging my fingers into Elliot's arms. He winced. I pulled away.

"It's just what I saw," he breathed.

I paused, my heart pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. If Hermione was really in the Chamber of Secrets, she would get herself killed. Something clicked inside me, wild, feverish. There was no way I could let her die.

"Take your wand out Elliot and come with me." As fast as I could I took off up the stairs, adrenaline pumping through me. I don't remember ever running that fast. I had no idea how Elliot was keeping up. But he did and he led me right to the bathroom where the girl had died and where Hermione had disappeared.

I stopped then looked Elliot directly in the eyes. "If you come with me, you do exactly as I say. No matter what I say. If you can't do that leave now."

Elliot straightened his back and let out a long breath. "I want to go. I want to help Hermione."

"You'll do as I say?" I leaned in, making sure he understood me.

"Yes." He nodded.

With that, I rushed into the bathroom, letting memories of what I'd learned the summer earlier flood back to me. The entrance was in the sinks. I had to speak to it, feel it inside me. The part of me that was Salazar Slytherin – that could command the basilisk. Open the chamber. Parseltongue words floated from my mouth, warm and hissing like melted butter. Elliot looked at me, surprised and slightly frightened.

"Wow," he breathed.

"It would be even better if it didn't cause me so much trouble."

The sinks creaked, lifting away, revealing a dark chasm with no bottom. I didn't even hesitate. I just jumped in. I knew it was what I had to do so I did it.

"Come on, Elliot!" I shouted back to him as my back smacked against the metal tunnel. Swirling and slipping like the slides at the park until I tumbled out on the damp floor. Elliot was moments behind me.

"That was crazy!"

I threw my hand over Elliot's mouth. "Shh... don't say a word. Keep your wand out, your head down. We don't want them to know we're here."

Elliot nodded against my hand so I drew my touch away and crept forward through the darkened tunnel. I could hear the basilisk – its curving, breathy voice speaking. Saying words like _eat – mudblood – girl._

My heart pounded violently. I knew Hermione had to be in here. And the basilisk was mine to control, the chamber my inheritance. I should never have let anyone take it from me. I should have stopped this a long time ago. Maybe Hermione wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe I wouldn't.

In the distance, I saw a cloaked man. The giant, slithering body of the basilisk, Hermione a writhing heap on the floor, a shimmering sword just out of reach.

"Stay here," I whispered to Elliot. "I'm going to try and get Hermione to you-" I stopped speaking when I realized I'd never thought of a way to get out of here. I slid into the shadows and said, "Accio broom."

It took a few moments but one of the school brooms came zooming down the tunnel and I caught it in my hand, hoping no one had heard the noise. "Take Hermione out of here. Get her to the hospital wing." I handed Elliot the broom.

"What about you?" he asked.

"I'll be fine." I pressed Elliot against the wall. "Don't move until I tell you or until Hermione is with you."

He nodded and with that I turned my attention back to the trembling Hermione. The figure had his wand slightly lowered. Hermione was breathing heavily, a gleam of torch light flickered against the tears on her face. I hated seeing her hurt like this. I couldn't stand it. Who ever this person was I was going to tear them apart. Make them wish they were never born.

That's when I heard Hermione say, "Just kill me or leave me alone, Riddle."

My heart smashed to my feet. My gaze shot to the man who was grabbing Hermione by her hair and lifting her to her feet.

"There's so much more I want to do to you first," he hissed. No... _I _hissed? Hermione's attacker looked exactly like me. She must have thought it was me. She had to have.

With the man's wand slightly lowered, the basilisk making swift circles around them, it was the perfect time for me to strike.

"Kiss me," snarled the fake Riddle. He squeezed her face tightly. "I know you like it."

I had to aim perfectly. If I missed... well, missing wasn't an option. Running out of the shadows, wand in front of me, I shouted, "Avada kedavra." A green light exploded from my wand and hurtled at the man who looked exactly like me. I almost felt the pain as the spell struck his side. But instead of falling back or crumpling the ground, he spun through the air and smacked on the ground.

I didn't avert my eyes fast enough. I thought for sure I was dead as the basilisk looked at me but then I noticed something. Blood and two empty sockets. The sword next to Hermione gleamed red. But even if the basilisk was blind it could still hear and smell. It could still eat me or Hermione. While the fake Riddle was passed out, I took my chance to take control of the basilisk. In parseltongue I said, "I am the true heir of Salazar Slytherin, his blood runs through my veins. You must obey my command." At first, I could feel the snake resist, like a current of power pressing against my skin but not crashing into me. Then it broke. I felt the power like a hot surge in my veins.

Eyes wide with shock, Hermione was staring at me. I couldn't read the emotions on her face. "I don't - I thought – _Tom?_" The way she said my voice. It was like she had said it when she didn't hate me. "That wasn't you?"

"I would never hurt you."

I was about to run to Hermione and command the basilisk to leave us alone when the impossible happened.

The fake Riddle stood back up. He couldn't. Nobody survived the killing curse.

"You know Tom the killing curse only works if the target is alive."

"Dracula," I snarled. Hermione scrambled on the ground for her wand then held it at him.

"You made me think – you made me believe that he." Hermione was shaking. I wasn't sure if it was cause by fear or by anger.

"You were so quick to believe that he had hurt those people. So quick not to listen to him. Not to trust him. You see, Tom, she could never truly care for you. She'll always see you as something dark. As a monster."

"You're the monster," she spat.

"Yes. I am," said Dracula. "But at least I accept who I am. Use it to grow more powerful every day. To have something you desperately want." He was slowly morphing out of my body and into his own. All bones, pale skin and murderous red eyes. "You failed to find what I sent you to find. It was for your benefit because I _care _for you Tom. For what becomes of you. There is only one way to harness the kind of power you desire. The kind that makes you feel alive. I can show you. I can show you how to make a horcrux. How to live forever."

Hermione stood between me and Dracula, her eyes pleading as they held onto mine. "Don't listen to him. He's a liar."

Dracula laughed. It was a cold, mirthless sound. "The only liar here is you Miss Granger – so afraid of the truth for a Gryffindor."

Hermione held her wand higher, but she was unsteady on her feet, trembling. I recognized the look in her face. She'd been recently touched by the cruciatus curse. Another jolt of anger shot through me.

"Get out of here, Hermione. You're weak-"

"I am not-"

I squeezed her hand, trying to show her with a touch how I felt. "Physically weak Hermione. You can hardly stand."

"I can't leave you – this is my fault."

"So touching. Cruel, soulless Tom Riddle has given his heart to a mudblood."

I spoke through gritted teeth. "Don't call her that." My arm pushed Hermione behind me.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed. "So sorry I didn't believe you."

"We can't worry about that now."

Dracula started speaking parseltongue. The basilisk lifted his head at the sound. My words competed with Dracula's. My connection needed to be stronger. If I didn't have control of basilisk, we'd all be dead. I wasn't sure if I could keep my reign on it.

"You have to go now. Elliot's waiting!" I shouted. "Please, Hermione." I grabbed her face in my hands. She nodded and ran as fast as she could. The basilisk lunged in her direction and I hissed, fiercely, wildly. Drawing up my magic from everywhere I could, forcing all of my power into my words. The wave crashed back into me. I had control.

The basilisk turned on Dracula, slithering slowly, directing its fanged mouth on my enemy.

"Don't you want to know how I opened the Chamber?" asked Dracula.

"No."

"Of course you do. Because only the heir of Salazar Slytherin can open the chamber – can control the basilisk. So what do you think, dearest Tom, that means."

My stomach turned. No. It couldn't be impossible.

"You descended from my blood." He smirked. "We are family. So you can command the basilisk to kill me. It is in your power to do so. Or you can honor your blood, my son."

I swallowed. So confused. So angry. I just wanted to fold in on myself. How could this _thing _be my family. This creature who'd hurt me and the only two people I'd ever cared about.

"Everything I've done has been for your own good. The boy and the girl make you weak. They are destroying you. I want only to stop them and protect you."

I shook my head. "Don't – you don't care about me. You're a liar."

"Then kill me, Tom. There is one way to do it. You know what it is."

_The basilisk._

"Go." I forced the words out. "Before I change my mind."

Dracula was directly in front of me. I cringed when he reached to touch my face. "They have made you weak."

Before I could respond, Dracula twisted away into a bat, flapping into the dark distance. I slid down to the floor, trying to get oxygen into my lungs. I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it.

I was related to Count Dracula. It was me he'd been after all along.

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. So we'll see how Tom takes this news and how Hermione and Tom begin to rebuild their friendship as the summer starts - and Tom will have a new focus on his family thanks to Dracula. (And of course Brax's wedding preparations). Hope you liked this chapter and thanks everyone!**


	22. Beautiful Things

When I finally found the strength to stand, I made my way out of the Chamber of Secrets and to the hospital wing, feeling weighed down by the weight of my discovery, but also glad that Hermione was out of there safely. And that she knew it wasn't me.

Elliot was sitting by Hermione's hospital bed, his legs tucked into his chest.

"You did well, kid," I said, crouching down beside him.

"Thanks," he said, not looking at me.

"How is she?"

"Sleeping." Elliot yawned.

"I've got it from here," I said, my gaze aiming at the door.

He nodded and slid off the chair. Elliot disappeared out the door. I went to sit down when a hand caught my wrist.

"Tom?" Hermione's voice sounded groggy.

"Yes."

She groaned as she sat up.

"You're alright?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And Dracula?"

I sat down on the chair, staring into the distance. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" she asked.

My head fell into my hands. "I couldn't... I couldn't kill. I mean, I could have, but I _wouldn't_.

"I don't?"

"Dracula and I are related, Hermione. That's how he opened the Chamber. He's my," the word stuck in my throat like poison glue. "Family."

She half-smiled, still looking exhausted. I could see the shock in her raised eyebrows, but her face still looked kind.

"That's not weakness, Tom. That's strength." Her grip on my wrist softened and her touch moved to my hand.

"Hermione-"

"I was wrong... I was so sure and I was wrong," she sounded defeated.

There was a hard lump in my throat and I didn't understand where it came from.

"I know we had our problems at first, but I'd thought you'd grown to like me, maybe even -" I wanted to say care for me, but was afraid she'd push me away again. Now that Brax wasn't around, I needed a friend. And, as memories of his soft lips moving against mine filled my thoughts, I knew I didn't think of Brax as just a friend anymore, even if I should have. Even if I wanted to.

"I had – I _do_. That's why I reacted so harshly, Tom."

"I just wish you could have believed me."

Hermione ran her fingers over mine slowly.

"I wish I could explain to you why I didn't."

We both sat there, eyes locked, trying to understand the puzzle, the mystery of the other person that seemed to be spinning around us.

"Maybe we should try to get to know each other," I said. It was a strange thing to suggest. I knew that when I said it.

"I think we _know _each other."

I tore my gaze away and stared down at the cracks on the floor. "I meant as a person, as a _friend. _That's one thing we've never been, Hermione. Friends."

I didn't think I could manage any more than that anyway. Not after she'd thrown me away like that, not after Brax. But I still cared for her and I still wanted her in my life. And maybe if we really got to know each other, she could learn to trust me.

"You want to be friends with me? You want to know things about me?"

Still unable to look at her I said, "Yes. Very much."

That night in my room I was trying to sleep but it did not come easily. Thoughts of Dracula and Hermione and what the summer would bring all fighting in my mind. I wanted more than anything to reach over and pull Brax's head under my chin, listen to him breathe until I forgot about everything else. But, of course, he wasn't here. I did the next best thing.

I crawled out of bed, walked over to my desk, illuminated my wand and began to read the last letter Brax had sent me.

_Dear Tom, _

_I'm counting the days until you are here. For many reasons. I miss your scowl, the way you roll your eyes, your sarcastic comments. Everyone here is either crying or feigning politeness. It's getting tiresome and I'm bored. I'm starting to miss all the craziness we got into with Dracula and Hermione. On that note, I hope you've been able to figure out why Dracula had your father's watch – and who has been opening the Chamber of Secrets._

_Anyway, I've been thinking of you. More often than I should. I glance down at the mark on my arm and want so badly to press my wand to it, to make you come to me. I know I shouldn't speak like this, but I can't help it. I don't think I'll ever be able to stop._

_With love,_

_Brax_

I couldn't help but re-read the word _love _over and over again. I knew that he loved me, but he'd actually never said it. He'd just never corrected anyone who had. But this – that _word _I'd spent so long hating. How did it look so beautiful when drawn by Brax's hand?

With a deep breath, I wrote him back.

_Dear Brax,_

_I have good and bad news, though I am truly sorry for your troubles. You know that I wish you here with me. If you ever change your mind, you are more than welcome to come live with Hermione, Elliot and I at Wool's. It's no grand manor, but Mrs. Cole makes the best gruel in the world. (Just some of that sarcasm you said you missed)._

_Back to my news, it was Dracula opening the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione knows that now and though we don't plan to pursue the relationship we once had, we want to try to be friends, real friends as we had never been before. I also learned something else... something that I wish I didn't have to tell you, but you are my best friend, you are more than that and I need you to know that Count Dracula is my ancestor. He's the only living magical relative that I know of. Maybe that's why he had my father's watch – though that doesn't make sense because my father is a muggle and Dracula is from my mother's side._

_I gave you that mark for a reason, Brax. Do not hesitate to use it. As much as you want to see me, know that I want to see you too. The fact that I admit this weakness to you, you must know how much I mean it._

_Until I'm with you again,_

_Tom_

I folded up the letter and would send it in the morning. For now, I felt the pressure lift from me as I always did when I confessed my thoughts to Brax.

That Friday was the last day of school. The sun beat down on the grounds and Hermione was lying outside, letting the heat strike across her face. Over the last few days, we had spent a lot of time together, just talking.

She'd told me about her best friend who was named Harry for whom trouble always had a way of finding him. Her cat named Crookshanks that everyone though was ugly with his smashed face, but she found adorable. She even told me about Ron – the boy she'd had feelings for. I couldn't pretend not be the least bit jealous, or the least bit proud that it had been me she'd chosen to be with first.

I'd told her about how happy I'd been when I'd found out that I was a wizard – that I could prove I wasn't crazy like everyone said. About the first time I'd met Brax how I'd been cruel to him and he'd responded with firm kindness of the sort only Brax knew how.

That morning, I collapsed down in the grass beside her, my head inches from her own.

"I don't want to go back," she said.

"Hm?"

"To Wool's, Tom. I don't want to go back there."

"Where else would we go?"

She ran her hands over her face. "Anywhere."

"Brax said we can come stay with him for awhile, he wrote you didn't he?"

She nodded. "Oh, yes. Of course. That was before... I told him I couldn't."

"I'm sure he wouldn't care if you changed your mind. I know he wouldn't." My voice lowered to a soft whisper as I thought of him.

Hermione groaned. "Would it really be that hard for you to confound a couple muggles into thinking they wanted to move to Hawaii and farm pineapples?"

"I think I've been a bad influence on you."

"So you won't do it?"

I rolled my eyes and looked at her. "We need to be there for Elliot – besides what are we going to do? Tell everyone you're my long lost sister?"

Her eyebrows raised as she turned to look at me. "You think of me like a sister."

I sighed. "You know I don't."

"... still it was a good idea."

"We just have one last summer."

One last summer until what I didn't know. Until Wool's kicked us out, I guessed, and we would have to find somewhere else to live.

"The train's about to leave. Aren't you two coming?" said Elliot with an exasperated sigh.

"We're coming." I stood and reached out to help Hermione to her feet. When her hand touched mine, I couldn't help but be reminded of what it had been like to be with her. To touch and kiss her if I wanted. I thought of what it would have been like had the Chamber never opened. I would walk right now with her hand in mine instead of dropping it. But if the Chamber had never opened, had Hermione never given up on me, I wouldn't know Brax as I know him now. I would have never kissed him and the thought of giving that up... I just, I couldn't.

Together Hermione, Elliot and I walked to the Hogwarts Express where we got some candy from the cart and watched out the window and Elliot tried not to look nervous, but I saw him chewing his nails and bouncing his legs.

He'd lived his whole life with his parents. Then one day his father killed his mother, went to prison and he was left the worst kind of orphan.

I'd always been alone when I stepped off the train at King's Cross, but today with Hermione to my left and Elliot in front of her, I wasn't even counting the days until I went back to Hogwarts, though I couldn't help but think of how many days it would be before I could see Brax again. He was most of what I seemed to think about anymore.

But the sun was just beginning to dip down toward the horizon as we walked through the sullen, dirty streets to the orphanage I'd lived in alone my whole life. Where I wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

Mrs. Cole was standing outside of the main entrance, looking nervous, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, outlining the deep wrinkles in her face. She was waiting for Elliot as he was new, though she had no idea I would accompanying him. It wasn't as if I normally spoke to anyone at the orphanage.

"Tom?" Her voice cracked as she saw me.

"Hello, Mrs. Cole. This is Elliot Daniels. He goes to school with Hermione and I."

"Yes. I know. I didn't expect-" She looked from him to me. "It's nice to meet you Elliot. My name is Mrs. Cole and I'm the matron here. You go ahead in and I'll show you around."

He nodded curtly but didn't quite give her eye contact. I could tell he was scared. Hermione had one arm wrapped around his shoulders from behind and led him inside.

"Mrs. Cole?" I turned to her once they were inside.

She paused. "Yes, Tom?"

"I was wondering if Elliot could stay with me? He's scared – and he gets angry sometimes. It would be better if he was where I could keep an eye on him."

Mrs. Cole stood there, blinking at me like she wasn't quite sure what to say or who I was.

"It's not as if anyone else wants to stay with me."

She let out a breath it was obvious she'd been holding. "I think that's – that's fine, Tom. It sounds sensible."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cole," I said then hurried in after Elliot and Hermione.

After Mrs. Cole gave Elliot a quick tour, he came into my room and sat on the bed in the corner. He said nothing just stared down at his feet. He was so still, too still. I knew that look. The calm before a tornado touched down. I went to the door and shut it, casting a quick silencing charm. It was nice to be able to do magic outside of Hogwarts now that I was seventeen.

"Elliot-"

"I want to go home."

"I know-"

He jumped to his feet. "I want to go home now! I hate it here."

"You haven't been here long and it's just for summers." I thought of what Brax might say if he were here. Calm, reasonable and reassuring.

Elliot kicked the bed. "It's STUPID. This whole place is STUPID. Muggles are stupid. This bed is stupid. Mrs. Cole is STUPID!"

Mrs. Cole actually _wasn't _stupid. She was very intelligent, especially for a muggle, but that wasn't worth trying to explain to Elliot in the middle of his fit. Maybe the best thing I could do was just let him ride it out.

"I don't want to live in an orphanage. What kind of pathetic person lives in a orphanage?" His fist was pounding into the wall over and over. I knew it had to be cracking his knuckles. I stood in front of him and he punched me, hard, in the ribs.

I grimaced. "Elliot-"

He stepped back. "I didn't... I didn't mean to hit you."

"Hit me if it makes you feel better. Scream about how it isn't fair if it makes you feel better. Well, Elliot, life isn't fair. Life is hard and bad things happen and you can either learn to live with it, learn to hate yourself and everyone else or you can try to find a way to make it better."

As I said those words they seemed to come from somewhere else, it was exactly what Brax had told me at the end of fifth year. I'd though it a load of nonsense at the time and had told Brax as much. But Brax had been right, as it seemed he almost always was.

"I'm... I just wish things were like they used to be." He slumped on his bed.

"It's nearly dinner," I said. "The food's not as good as Hogwarts but it's not as bad as it could be."

"And Hermione will be there," Elliot said, looking at his feet with a slight blush in his cheeks, a slight perk in his voice.

"Elliot," I said with a jokingly warning tone. "Do you fancy our Miss Granger?"

"No. I, uh, of course not."

I just laughed and stretched out on my bed. What twelve year old boy who'd just lost his mother wouldn't have a crush on Hermione with her pretty face and her warm laugh and her caring nature?

That evening Elliot went to sleep quickly. I, however, found sleep difficult again. I hadn't heard from Brax since the last time I wrote and really missed hearing from him. I wanted to feel the pull I knew would come if he ever called me to see him. When I finally couldn't take it anymore, I climbed out of bed, even though I wasn't supposed to and figured I'd head down the kitchen and get something to drink since everyone else would be in bed.

When I flipped on the light and skidded into the kitchen, Mrs. Cole yelped.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" I asked.

She let out a long breath and stiffened. "Tom- what are you doing out of bed?" Her arms wrapped around herself as if that could protect her from me.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Act nervous when I walk in a room. You've known me my whole life."

She stared down at her feet. "Exactly."

I turned and looked at her. "_You _don't have to be afraid of me, Mrs. Cole."

"I should punish you for being out of bed." Her frail lips pressed together.

"How about I make us both some tea and you forget the punishment?"

Mrs. Cole slumped into a chair. "Chamomile."

I nodded and began to prepare a pot, hardly realizing that in all the years I'd been at Wool's this was the most I'd ever spoken to Mrs. Cole.

"Are you and Miss Granger?" she asked, but then cut herself off.

"We're friends."

"You don't have friends."

"Things change," I said as I poured her a mug of tea and me one as well. I handed it to her as I sat down at the small table.

"I've known you for seventeen years, Tom. Not once have you had a friend or shown any interest in gaining friends. You can't be surprised that I find it strange."

I took a sip. "I've had a friend since I was eleven. I just didn't know how to be one to him until this year. Until Hermione..."

Mrs. Cole smiled. "Well then it seems she is a blessing to all of us."

I breathed in the sweet, tangy scent of the tea as I took another sip. "You've never liked me much, have you? Not that I'd blame you."

"Tom, I remember the day you were brought her. When your mother left you with us. She said nothing, nothing but your name and that she was glad you had your father eyes. I sat down in the rocking chair, right over there by the window, and held you in my arms, staring down at those blue eyes, so wide and bright and discerning, waiting for you to cry, which you never did." Mrs. Cole held up a finger. "I remember your tiny fingers wrapping around mine. You-" she inhaled sharply. "For years, you were my favorite. Not that a matron is supposed to have such opinions. Then it was like, somewhere along the way, you just _disappeared_."

I stared down at my half-full cup unsure of what to say this woman. The one person I'd known longer than anyone.

"You met my mother?"

A sad smile drew on Mrs. Cole's face.

"What was she like?"

"Sick. She was very sick and looked weak and tired. You know she didn't live long."

I shook my head. "She died. Instead of stay with me. Instead of fight for me. She just...she _died._"

"Oh, Tom. I'm not sure she had much choice in the matter. That is the way with dying."

"It can't be that simple. We can't be _that _weak."

With a slight tremble, Mrs. Cole reached out and laid a hand on top of mine. I stared down at the wrinkles and spots on her skin.

"My father used to tell me something. Asked me to pass it on to my children, but I never had any of my own. I think, however, you need to hear it. We destroy beautiful things when we try to make them last forever."

"But Mrs. Cole-"

Her hand squeezed mine in a gentle, motherly gesture that scared me.

"Life is brief, but it is beautiful. Try to find joy in its brevity." Mrs. Cole's hand slid away from mine and back to her tea. I couldn't move unable to look away from this woman I'd known my whole life as I suddenly realized I did not know her at all.

_A/N: Thanks for reading. I think it's important that Hermione and Tom learn to be friends and have more than just a physical relationship. And right now Tom can't shake his feeling about Brax. Please review!_


	23. Belong

I sat in the common area, my legs crossed on the floor. Elliot was to my right and Hermione to my left. The cards flicked against my fingers as I shuffled them then dealt them out.

The other inhabitants of Wool's still avoided me or looked at me strangely. I knew it was a sight to see me with friends – Mrs. Cole had already pointed out how unusual it was.

The weird part was that even though I knew it was unlike me, it didn't _feel _unlike me. I felt more like me than I had in any time I could remember. What Mrs. Cole had said about me crossed my mind:

_You just disappeared._

Had I? Had the person I was really meant to become, the person I was now, somehow buried away in anger and hatred and bitterness. The way I saw it sometimes happen to Elliot.

I honestly didn't know. I guess it didn't matter. I had Hermione and Elliot and, of course, Brax. Though I did not get to see him face to face anymore. Soon though, I told myself, I'd seen him again soon.

Hermione, Elliot and I spent most of our days together – sort of huddled away from everyone else. Like a tiny piece of Hogwarts I got to carry with me.

"Come on, kids," called Mrs. Cole. "Time to clean up for dinner."

She wasn't really talking to the older people like me and Hermione, but we stood up anyway.

"I need to write Brax back," I said then, without thinking about it, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

She stiffened, but then smiled.

"See you at dinner," Hermione said.

Elliot followed the other, younger boys to the bathroom and I hurried back the bedroom to read Brax's letter. When I received it, I had to run out without reading because I'd promised to go with Elliot and Hermione to the park – and honestly I just really wanted out of that drab place. Even if I wasn't taking it out on Mrs. Cole anymore, the orphanage was still depressing.

_Dear Tom,_

_I don't think I can do this anymore. Not sure what to do. Leila's family just arrived and it's all so real now and I'm scared. I can't breathe, I can't eat, I can't sleep. I'm just lost._

_Brax_

My stomach flipped. How could I not have read this when I got it? Was he at Malfoy Manor thinking I went back to not caring about him? I didn't... I couldn't... I could never go back to that.

I composed a quick letter.

_Dear Brax,_

_I'm sorry for your pain, for all that's happened and happening to you. I would take the pain away if I could – you know that, don't you? That if you hurt, I hurt. I do, Brax. I hurt for you and I'm sorry. Let me know what I can do._

_Always,_

_Tom_

Elliot had an owl and Mrs. Cole let him keep it if we were discreet about it. I tied the letter to it's foot and sent it out of the window.

Feeling sick and not a bit hungry, I headed down to dinner.

"Tom, you alright?" I heard Hermione's voice from out of nowhere. Her hand was warm and comforting on my shoulder.

"I'm... yes... it's just Brax. He's not doing well."

She squeezed my hand.

"It's just not fair," she sighed.

"No it's not." I pulled her into my chest, wrapping my arms around her. I had missed being close to her, though we had never been close like this before. More than physically close. I was actually getting to know her.

"We'll be out there to help him soon. We're his friends, Tom and we have to help him bear this. That's our responsibility as his friends."

"I know," I whispered against her hair. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's go eat dinner."

My breath caught in my throat as Hermione's fingers locked with mine. There was still nothing quite as lovely as her, with her thick brown hair and deep, thoughtful eyes. But she was more than something to look at, something to touch, to possess. She was a _person._

A person like me.

We ate dinner and, for a moment, Hermione was able to keep my mind of the grief I was feeling. She had an even stronger brightness to her than we'd first met. It was brightness without anger and I would be lying if I said that even then I did not find her beautiful.

Elliot had started talking to another one of the boys his age and they'd run off playing some game.

"Mind if I go read?" Hermione yawned.

"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow." I smiled down at her and she smiled up at me. I'm not sure I appreciate you at the time as much as I should have.

I could never have survived those next weeks without you.

I went back to my room because I was feeling tired, the weight of everything that had been happening weighed on me so heavily. I feel asleep quickly, completely dressed and on top of the covers.

A strange pressure on my arm and in my chest woke me. It was startling, something like the pull of portkey, but even stronger. I sat straight up, having trouble catching my breath, unsure of what was happening. Then I realized. Brax.

It was Brax calling for me.

I didn't fight the pull anymore and let myself disappear.

When my feet hit the ground, I gasped. It was a dark room, with no lights, save an oil lamp on a small desk. The light flickered, illuminating the angles of Brax's face, the sharp silver of his eyes.

His white shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing his chest. He was gripping the sides of the desk, but not looking at me.

"Brax," I whispered.

He stood straight, then reached behind his head like he was stretching, revealing the black snake and skull painted on the inside of his forearm.

I couldn't look at that and not feel connected to him. Connected in a way that mad nearly no sense to me. All I knew was that I wanted to close the space between us.

"You came," he said, a hint of disbelief in his dry voice.

"Of course I did."

The details of Brax became clear as I drew nearer to him. It was obvious he'd lost weight, too much. He'd always been thin, but he looked so pale and his bones were pressing much to hard against his skin.

A tear slipped from his eye and pooled in the corner of his lip. I reached toward him and wiped the tear away. My palm rested against his cheek.

"I've missed you," I said, looking down.

"Tom?"

"Yes?" I said, forcing myself to look at him, even though it was too much – it hurt too much, it felt too good. A contradiction that was tearing me apart.

"I don't know what to do. I don't know what I want. I just feel so scared and lost and hopeless. Tom. I've never felt like this before, like there is something black and dark and empty inside of me and I feel like I'm losing myself."

My other hand rested against his cheek as well, until I was cradling his face. My heart was thrumming at a speed I didn't know possible.

With a deep breath, I let my hands drop away from his face.

"Do you know what I want?"

He shook his head and I opened my mouth to speak, knowing the truth, knowing what I was about to admit, the consequences, but I did it anyway. Because he needed it and so did I.

"I want so many things," I whispered. "I want your heart. Your smile. I want you to want me." My fingers grazed the bottom of his shirt. "I want to see you. All of you." My touch skimmed the sides of his body. "I want to see how much you've wanted me all these years. To feel your heart pound, your breath catch in your throat and know it's because of how much you feel for me." I breathed out. "Because you want me to keep touching you. To never stop. I want you. _All of you_."

My head spun. I couldn't feel my legs under the weight of my confession. Brax looked stunned, frozen.

"Brax."

I couldn't believe the words coming from my mouth. I'd never let go like this. Never let myself want anything this much. I was falling, falling, falling and preparing for impact.

I swallowed, my breaths wild. I knew I had to say this. Because I meant it. Because for the first time in my life it was true. The words came out broken, trembling. In a whisper, I admitted, "I am in love with you."

His mouth fell open, eyes staring. Brax didn't move and it didn't look like he was breathing either. Everything whirled around me, an uncontrollable blur. Waiting. Waiting. For an answer, for a response. I didn't know how to stop or slow down or keep myself from turning to dust on the floor.

I touched his cheek. Gently, like a ghost. Like if he shattered, I would shatter too. Because I would. Because I was exposed, an open wound. My fingers ran across his face to the back of his neck.

I stared down at Brax, begging for a sign that he wanted me to move closer, or wanted me to back away. Direction on if I was what he desired or if being with me now would hurt him too much. If that pain wasn't worth it. He could have run. He could slapped me. He could have hated me forever but even if I had wanted to, I could not have stopped myself. I wanted this moment to be the only moment there ever was.

I stepped the smallest bit closer and placed my other hand on the space between Brax's shoulder and neck. I was afraid to press down too hard, afraid a strong touch would burn us both.

Brax could easily pull away, but he didn't and I didn't know why I was surprised, but I was. I was sparking, igniting, with the impossibility of this moment- of my skin against his skin. My hands trembled against him, enough that I knew he could feel it. I was no longer the boy who tortured animals, who never cried, who bled hate. The hands that touched Brax had never, would never hurt or kill. They were good.

And,with the utmost caution, I leaned closer. I didn't know if I was breathing, or if I was alive, or if I was anything other than the beat of my heart and the numbness in my legs. There was no light, no heat because we were everything, all at once.

"Let me," I breathed. "Let me show you how I feel."

And I kissed him.

His lips were sweeter than anything I'd ever tasted, like salted caramel, like iced butterbeer, like breathing and dying and living forever. So gentle, heartbreakingly gentle.

And then the kiss changed, but it wasn't me, it was Brax.

"Merlin, _Tom_-"

His lips crushed mine, powerful, hungry like if he didn't taste every inch of me he'd crumble to pieces, like we're dangling on the edge of a cliff. He tasted so – he tasted like tripping into a dream; he was passion and pain and firewhisky. I'd never wanted anything more. My hands grasped the collar of his shirt, dragging him closer. His lips released mine.

He was panting like he'd run a million miles and I was the thing he was chasing after, like everything bad in his life – his marriage, his parents, Count Dracula – like none of it was real, just a dizzying nightmare now so far out of reach that it didn't matter, it never mattered.

I was drowning. Sinking in quicksand and he was filling up my lungs and I was dead.

He looked up at me, hands fumbling over my face and neck and arms like they were desperately searching, exploring, carving into my soil and digging for my buried treasure. Like he was terrified I didn't want this too. But, damn, I wanted him. I wanted him to kiss me until his touch melted my bones, until I was liquid and vapor and he was drinking me in, breathing me in.

He said nothing but his lips licked against mine again. Over and over. Coming together. Parting. Perfect.

I was kissing him back with all the strength and desire I had, like I was running out of time, desperately grasping to sand slipping through an hourglass and kissing him was the only way to hold on. There would never be enough time. Not if I had a million years – there would never be enough time to trace, to paint, to own every muscle, every freckle of him. His hands ran down my spine. I pushed his head back and kissed his neck, feeling his pulse with my tongue. Fingers dug into my hips. His hand moved to my hair, a familiar touch that seemed so new. I was sparking, shaking, I reached under his shirt, running my fingers over sharp muscles. The heat was melted gold and it was tearing apart my veins. A desire so overwhelming, so consuming that it became the new definition, the only definition of what it meant to be happy.

I shoved Brax hard against the wall. I kissed him like this was the last day ever, like the apocalypse was knocking at our door and he was my oblivion. I was so, so thirsty and he was water. I had no idea it could feel like this to touch someone, to not give a damn about being special, because this was worth every loss, every other mundane moment. There was no stopping. I was a freight train powering towards a brick wall, ready to burst into flames.

My hands shoved Brax's pants to the floor. I tripped over the buttons of his shirt until I could shove it off his shoulders.

He leaned to kiss me but I backed out of the way. I wanted, needed, to see him, to let my eyes trace his legs, his icicle sharp hip bones, his trembling adam's apple. I couldn't not stop myself from saying it like a litany as I reeled him into me again.

"You're so incredible," I breathed. "So _damn _beautiful."

Brax was tall, strong and muscled. I wasn't sure I could do it, but it happened so fast that it just was. His legs wrapped around my waist. I carried him to the bed and pushed him on the mattress. My hips were over his hips, pressing down. I grabbed the hem of my shirt and ripped it over my head, tossing it aside. Nothing else existed but the slight raise of Brax's left eyebrow, the way he was chewing on his lip. I had never known what it meant to be satisfied with life until that moment – to want nothing more, to accept nothing less.

Everything I had, every kiss, every touch, every beat of my heart. I would give to him. I wanted to give them all to him.

I kissed his mouth. Licked his ear. Sucked on the soft skin of his neck. My lips trailed to his collar bone, tongue sweeping over the raised bones. My hands ran down the angle of his body, my gaze trailing with my touch. I was looking down at his hips, at his thighs, inhaling the scent of ceder and crystallized sugar. I traced my fingers down the bare skin of his legs, dancing up his chest, dipping into the space between his ribs. I tugged on the top of his boxers and Brax inhaled sharply.

My mouth pressed against the soft sliver of skin that the waistband of his boxers had previously hidden. When I touched my tongue to his skin, I collapsed. Like a building imploding on itself. I wanted – no I _had_ – to kiss him everywhere. Touch every inch of his body until he truly belonged to me.

I kissed his navel. Each of his ribs. The hollow of his neck.

His skin was burning coals, my lips set ablaze. This was it. This was how I died. A pile of ashes across Brax's body. His hands grabbed my shoulders and he pulled me up so we were face to face.

_Kiss me, please just kiss me._

Brax's hand ran over my chest, his touch like knives across me. Nothing in life I had ever been this strong, this consuming. Every touch was an explosion that could blow the world to pieces. My mind went blank. The realities of tomorrow, of Brax's promise to Leila and his family, of the real, harsh world that lived and judged beyond these walls. I forgot, forgot, forgot. Laced into his silver eyes, fine trappings of his utter perfection.

He didn't hate me. He never hated me. He _loved _me.

I held myself up on my hands, gazing down at him as he gazed up at me. He was smiling. I was smiling, but I was suddenly, blindingly, unspeakably terrified. I had no breath anymore. No idea what came next. No idea how to be this shattered in front of someone else.

But he wasn't leaving and I wasn't leaving and we'd just have to figure it out.

He pressed his lips to my cheek, the heat radiating off us like we were coated in starlight. I cradled his face in my hands, stroking my thumbs across his cheekbones. I had no idea when I breathed last and I didn't care.

As I leaned in so slowly wanting our lips to meet again, I felt starved, prickling, like I weighed a thousand pounds, bursting at the seams with emotions, fears, hopes I had never been capable of before. This was what it meant to be alive. Everything before this moment was just pretend. I knew it like I knew the sky, like I knew the pull of gravity. Like I'd watched them both break.

I belonged to Brax.

**A/N: So...I had a lot of fun writing that. But don't have a heart attack you Tomione shippers. This is all leading somewhere. Just trust me. This was the big Tom/Brax moment of the story. For my Tombrax shippers out there... hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I love all my followers. You're the best.**

**And get ready for the morning after... and all it's complications and that lovely moment when reality sets in**


	24. Goodbye, Malfoy

I blinked at the sunlight streaming in through the window in Brax's room at Malfoy Manor. Yawning, I breathed in the scent of sweat and firewhisky. Brax laid half on top of me, skin to skin, his cheek pressed against my chest. Our breaths were slow, steady and occurring in rhythm. Brax sniffled.

I twitched, surprised by the sound. Brax shifted into the space between my arm and chest. I lifted his face so I could look in his eyes. They were wet with tears.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" I asked, the pace of my heart picking up. My thumbs wiped away the tears puddling in his eyes.

His breath shook. "Say that again," Brax whispered.

"Say what again?"

"Call me sweetheart."

"_Sweetheart."_

Brax licked his lips and made a soft mewing sound against my chest. I tucked my fingers under his chin and lifted his mouth to meet mine. His mouth was salty from the tears and moved soft and slow and... sad... against mine.

"I need you to tell me what's wrong, Brax," I said, probably sounding impatient. I _was _feeling impatient, but I didn't want to show it. "Are you hurt? Do you regret what we did last night?"

He shook his head, wiping a few stray tears away. I put my hands on his cheeks. "Then you have to stop crying. You don't have to cry anymore. Because I'll take care of you now."

Brax bit his lips, those eyes like shiny coins glinting up at me. "Tell me what it would be like, Tom. Our lives."

_I should have paid attention to the way you said that._

A smile crossed my lips as I wound my arms around Brax's hips, pulling him against me. At the close contact, I couldn't stop the memories from last night. From our fingers locked together as I moved against him. To the way his mouth slacked open and the way he whispered my name against my ear.

Combing my fingers through his hair, I wondered why he wanted me to tell him what he'd soon enough get to experience for himself, but I did what he asked.

"We'll finish school at Hogwarts. What happened last night, that'll happen every night. And every morning I'll wake up and the first thing I'll do is kiss you. We'll travel the world together. See things most people only dream about. Experience all the magic this earth has to offer. Maybe find Dracula and kick his ass. After that, if you want to, we'll slow down, we'll pick somewhere far away, somewhere beautiful like you and we'll spend every day just like this. Me and you."

With a half-smile, Brax wiped the remaining tears away from his face. He reached up, brushing his thumb over my lips, running his fingers down my neck to my navel where he stopped. I grabbed his hand to bring it lower, but he stopped me.

"No... we can't..." he breathed.

"You're right," I said, swinging my legs to hit the floor, my eyes searching for the clothes I'd strewn across the floor. I grabbed my wand and summoned them. While dressing, I smiled at Brax. "We should get going."

Brax pulled his boxers and pants on but then sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

"Come on, sweetheart. Pack what you want and we'll go."

Brax peeled his hands away from his face and looked up at me. I could hardly the process the sadness in his face, the emptiness in the eyes that should have been shining with the future.

"Oh, Tom," he breathed. "Tom, I'm so sorry. So sorry." His eyes were wide with fear.

"Sorry, I don't understand. Sorry for what?"

Brax pulled his pants on then stood. There were a few pink marks on the sections of skin that had met my lips and teeth and tongue. I could feel the blush on my cheeks. I couldn't wait to do again what we had done last night.

"I think you misunderstood what last night meant." Brax swallowed.

My heart was in my feet, the air was bitter, toxic, as I tried to breathe. "Misunderstood? What was there to misunderstand? I love you. You love me. Admittedly, I'm not the world's leading expert on love, but I'm still not sure what was misunderstood in that."

Brax stepped toward me, taking my hand and squeezing it. "I love you, Tom. I'm in love with you – I have been for five years. I'll keep loving you, probably forever. And, last night was more than I could ever have hoped for. But that doesn't change-"

Anger and embarrassment burned inside me as well as confusion. What was happening? "Doesn't change what?"

I could see it in his eyes. That determination. Like he was preparing himself for what he was about to say, for how blunt he was about to be. "I'm still marrying Leila. I'm not leaving with you."

My eyes burned and my throat hurt. I stumbled back, ripping my hand away from Brax. "Wh-what?"

"I'm sorry, Tom. It can't work for us – not in a world like this. I can't just abandon my family. I'm the only Malfoy heir. I have to have children."

"Damn it, Brax! This is ridiculous."

He clinched his teeth and kept talking. "You know this. I told you all of this. I made a promise and I intend to keep it."

I laughed, cold and harsh. "Yes, you seemed absolutely determined to keep your promise last night when you were screaming my name while I screwed you."

Brax stumbled back like I slapped him across the face. I didn't care. I was so angry – I couldn't remember ever being that angry and I was a very angry person. But this was anger mixed with other things, stronger things – shame and jealousy, loss and love.

"Tom-"

"Are you going to tell your future wife about that?" I grabbed his shoulders and slammed him against the wall. "Are you going to tell her about the things I did to you, the things you _begged _me to do to you?" My hands gripped his shoulder and I leaned in breathing against his neck. He shut his eyes and shuddered. I pressed his body against mine, anger now fighting with the overwhelming attraction I felt for him.

"I want to go with you, Tom. I want you. I love you. Isn't how I feel enough?"

I slammed my fist hard against the wall by his head then tore myself away. "No. It's not. Like I said, I don't know much about love, but the one thing I do know is this. It's _not _just a feeling. It's about your actions. You can choose this fake life, this _half _life if that's what you want. You can spend your life prancing around with a pretty blonde on your arm. Everything you have – all your money – your pretentious family – this house. It's all a lie. And that's what you are Malfoy. You're a liar, a coward and liar who hides away in his daddy's mansion spending his entire life just praying he doesn't step on anyone's toes. Doesn't disappoint anyone. Well guess what? _You_ disappoint _me_."

"You're the liar, Tom. You said you supported me, no matter what, because you were my friend."

My hand gripped into my hair. I was crazy. I felt like I was ripping into a thousand pieces – and it hurt, Merlin, it hurt so much I could hardly bear it.

"That was before I slept with you. Before I fell in love with you." My hands were on his waist, rubbing the bare skin. "You can spend your life taking care of her, or you can let me take care of you. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'd tell you that every single day. Let me take care of you, Brax." I leaned down and kissed him.

My heart thrummed, my blood pumping so hard I could hear it in my ears. His lips would always be so perfect against mine, crafted just for me.

"I'm so sorry." said Brax as I pulled away. "I can't."

I was a pile of broken, charred bones. "Goodbye, Malfoy," I spat. "And good luck with your wedding. Find a new best man-"

"You won't come to the wedding?"

"Abraxas Malfoy, you are never going to see me again."

Before I could change my mind or temper what I said, I disapparated from the room and apparated to the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron.

I went inside the pub and ordered a firewhisky. Then another and another and another. Until I was as drunk as I'd been in my entire life.

It was a blur, but sometime before the sun set, I stumbled back into Wool's. All I remember was Mrs. Cole, gasping as I tripped into her. She helped me to my room where Elliot was and she told him to stay the night with some of the other boys.

"Is he okay?" Elliot asked.

"He will be," said Mrs. Cole. "Now run along." Elliot did what he was told. She got a cool damp washcloth and handed it to me.

"Put it on your forehead," she said.

_It's a good thing for pensieve's. If it wasn't for that I wouldn't have any of this memory._

"I'm fine, Mrs. Cole." I sat on my bed, curling my legs up to my chin.

"No. You're not-" she said, "You're drunk as hell."

"I'm not _drunk,_" I slurred.

She sighed. "I grew up with four brothers. Each a bigger drunk than the last – I know what absolutely plastered looks like. So don't try to pull one over on me."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Mrs. Cole dragged over the trash can.

"What's that for?"

Her cloudy eyes glanced at the clock. "In, at my estimation, about fifteen minutes, you'll start hurling your guts."

"Ugh," I groaned.

"You should think about that the next time you decide to be the sole support of the liquor industry."

Mrs. Cole grabbed a throw off the chair and laid it over me. She brushed back the sweaty hair stuck to my forehead.

"Of all the ridiculous things you've done in your life, I've never seen you get drunk."

I looked up at her. "I've never had a broken heart before."

"You can't hide from a broken heart, Tom. You just have to let yourself feel the pain."

The waves of nausea starting to grow inside me, I said. "I'd rather not."

Mrs. Cole sighed and patted me on the knee. "I have to go take care of the others. I'll send Hermione in to spend the night with you, if she's comfortable with that."

"Aren't you worried about impropriety-" Well impropriety is what I meant to say but it sounded more like _inpersolosopity._

Her laugh was warm and genuinely amused. "Stand up."

"What?"

"Stand up."

Shaking my head, I placed my feet on the ground, attempting to stand. I fell right back flat on the bed.

"I'm not too concerned about it." She shook her head and left the room.

An indeterminate amount of time later (probably about fifteen minutes because my head was in the trash can), Hermione's silhouette was framed in the doorway.

"Holy hell what happened to you?" she said, coming inside and shutting the door.

Lifting up from the trash can, a bitter taste in my mouth, my head spinning, I leaned back on the bed, exhaustion and alcohol impeding that all important filter that kept the thoughts in my head from becoming words.

"I had sex with Brax, but he's still going to marry Leila and I yelled at him, promised to never see him again and then drank an entire bottle of firewhisky."

Hermione's eyes were wide, her mouth open as she sat on the edge of my bed. "Drunk Tom is a very blunt Tom."

"Sor-" I started to say 'sorry' but then Hermione pulled the trash can closer as I threw up in it again.

"This is going to be a long night," she sighed, lying back on my bed.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Sorry for the Tomione wait, but it all starts here lol. And Dracula shall be coming back and a broken hearted Tom is going to find his way into some serious trouble in the next few chapters. Anyway, hope you liked it. Please review.**


	25. Muggle or Not

Hermione sat next to me on the bed, leaning close. I could smell the familiar lemony scent that followed her everywhere like a fragrant tattoo. Still it was hard to smell over my own alcohol stench.

"No wonder the world is in such an awful state," I slurred, my mind flashing to memories of the being trapped in that bomb shelter all those months ago. "It's impossible to function when you feel like this."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Broken hearts heal, Tom. You got over me."

"I wasn't in love with you."

_Stupid drunk fool._

She shifted a little further away from me. "Be that as it may, Thomas Riddle. You still cared for me whether you want to admit it or not. You survived."

"Because I had Brax." There's something about being drunk that makes it really easy to admit your weaknesses. I was smart enough to lay off the firewhiskey after this night. "Now I have no one."

Hermione sighed. "What are me and Elliot? Your creepy cousins?"

"You know I don't have any family." I laughed then, very attractively of course, hurled into the trash can.

_Why in the name of Merlin Hermione did you ever put up with me?_

"Elliot and I care about you. Despite our better judgment. We do. We both do. And even Brax, no matter how it seems right now. That counts for something, doesn't it?"

I wiped my mouth. "I didn't even know how to care until I met you. Of course I care. But you – you left me – and so did Brax. So has everyone. My mother, my father. _All _of them."

Hermione swallowed hard, her face paling slightly. "I'm sorry. I was wrong and I'm sorry."

"How can I trust you again?" I asked, turning to look in her brown eyes that seemed so alive, so real, like I could plant a seed in them and watch a flower grow.

"Because we all make mistakes. We all hurt people we care about. If we threw someone away the first time they hurt us, the first time they disappointed us, we'd end up bitter and alone."

"What if that's what I want? To be bitter and alone."

Hermione's hand ran down my forearm to my hand. She locked our fingers together and for a moment I felt connected to gravity again.

"Then that's your choice. But it doesn't have to be like that. It can be good... you can be-"

I never heard what she said because I passed out before she could finish her sentence.

When I woke up the next morning, she was still there. I couldn't believe it, but there she was leaning on my shoulder, her hair a mess over her face, her mouth fallen slightly open and I couldn't stop myself from thinking that she was _still _beautiful. That she always had been even if I made myself forget.

"You should probably clean yourself up," Hermione said with a sigh as she stood from the bed stretching.

I scooted up, my head pounding so hard I thought it might explode.

"What did I say last night? Anything?" I wasn't sure if I'd told her about Brax or about anything. I didn't really care what she thought about my being with Brax. I wasn't ashamed of what we did. But I did care if she thought I was some idiot he didn't even want. Well, he didn't want me enough.

No one wanted me.

Even the words Hermione had said to me once long ago rang in my head. _I'll never want you._

It was heavy and tangible – the anger burning inside of me. That pain, that bitterness was worse than the hangover.

"You might want to cut back on the drinking, Tom." She smiled, patted my hand and left me alone in the room.

Just to lie there and think about how alone I was. How alone I'd always been. Always would be.

The only family I had left in the world was a psycho who was trying to destroy mine and my friend's lives.

All except for – I tried to push the thought away but it was too strong – my father. My father was out there somewhere. Mine. _My_ father.

Muggle or not. He was mine. I was his son.

I shook my head, ran my hands through my hair and groaned. Thoughts like these were going to drive me out of my mind.

For the next week, things settled into a routine. It wasn't one I was particularly pleased with, but it was a routine nonetheless. In a way, it kept me frozen, under control. As I ate dinner with Hermione and Elliot and read books and took walks around the orphanage and sat in my room.

"Get out and do something," said Hermione.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Anything." She sighed, flopping down beside me on the tattered couch in the common room. "Staying in here brooding is only going to drive you crazier."

I flipped the page in my book. "I'm not brooding. I'm just surviving."

She shook her head, her hand finding its way to right above my knee. "You've got to find something to do. Something to focus on."

_You really shouldn't have said that._

I couldn't get the thought of my family off my mind as Brax's wedding neared. He was off to start his own family apart from me and doing a duty to his parents. And then there was me – alone, a broken hearted orphan who once had plans of becoming the greatest wizard the world had ever known.

I laughed at that and laid back on the couch. The greatest wizard that world had ever known did not sit around pining over a boy he could never have and wishing for his mommy.

But I couldn't deny that there was a new part of me. A new part that seemed to form just as I'd met the explosion that was Hermione Granger with her thoughtful eyes and mysterious expressions.

She was across the room now, sitting on the floor her skirt flowing around her, teaching some of the young girls to read. I could see her, years from now, her hair pulled back, maybe glasses perched on her button nose, a valued professor of Hogwarts.

This new part of me – the one she'd somehow created – knew I needed more than just power. I needed people to share it with. The one thing I'd never had before was a family. But that family couldn't be Dracula. Not after what he'd done to Brax. It was his fault, at least partially his fault, we couldn't be together. And who knew what that freak had planned? What he would be willing to do to control me?

There my father was. In my head though I didn't know how. I know I'd never seen him before so it had to just be a thought, just something I imagined or wanted.

Ms. Cole had said my mother said he looked like me. Dark hair, blue eyes. I imagined him smiling. Shaking my hand, calling me son. Saying he was so grateful that he found me.

There was every chance he had no idea I existed. Every chance in the world he would want me, right? That's what fathers did. They wanted their sons.

Even Brax's father wanted him, wanted him to be in the family even if he didn't like who Brax was. Even if he wanted something _from _him, he still wanted Brax too. Because that's what it was to be a father. It had to be.

My heart started pounding faster and I had to take a deep breath to force myself to think, to be rational.

Things may be difficult between us but I could find my father. I could talk with him. He could meet me. I could talk to him. Maybe, just maybe, I could have a real family.

I shot up from the couch like something shocked me.

"You okay?" asked Hermione, looking up at me, worried.

"Fine. Good. Great. Fine. I'm fine." I leaned down and kissed her on the head. I gesture I hadn't shared since returning from Brax's. She smiled and looked up at me. I looked down at her and something passed between us. That something strong that had connected us since the day we met. I didn't have time for that right now. I had a father to find.

Over the next few days, I made phone calls, trying to get a hold of someone who knew my father. After the sixth call in Little Hangleton where my mother was from, I finally found someone at a pharmacy who knew my grandmother. My _grandmother. _

I didn't just have a father out there somewhere. I had a grandmother named Mary who bought medicine at a pharmacy from a man who knew she lived in a house on a hill just down the street from where the old Gaunt place was. I'd been there once, just briefly. There was something about that house, even then, even before Hermione, that did not sit right with me. I left as quickly as I could.

I had a sudden burst of energy, of excitement. I bounded down the steps, smiling and almost knocking over Ms. Cole.

"Watch where you going!" she snapped then looked and saw it was me. "What's gotten into you Tom?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." I grabbed her hands. "It's a beautiful day out. Thought I'd take Elliot to the park. Hermione too. Have you seen her?"

"She's in the nursery," said Ms. Cole skeptically. "Aren't you supposed to be upstairs, in the dark, moping over that boy?"

I froze, my eyes widening. How did she know? Why did she- What? "Ms. Cole!"

She rolled her eyes. "I may be a oh what do you call it... muggle... but I've got a few tricks of my own. I see things."

"Ms. Cole, I-"

She cut me off. "Hush boy. I don't care about all that. Love is love. And especially when it comes to you. Tom, if you came in here telling me your were in love with a badger and intended to marry it and a live long happy life together, I'd bake you a cake. Anything to keep you out of trouble-"

I placed a hand on Ms. Cole's cheek. "Trust me, I'd never fall in love with a badger." I jogged down the hallway. "I'll have Hermione and Elliot back by dark."

As I walked away, I heard Ms. Cole mutter, "Crazy boy's going to land me in an early grave." Out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw her brace herself on the wal and cough hard into her left hand. But I was too excited with the idea of finding my own family to worry about old Ms. Cole.

_I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry._

I threw open the door to the nursery ready to excitedly pop in when I stopped in my tracks as quieted. Hermione sat by the warm light of window, rocking in a chair, holding a small bundle in her arms.

The baby couldn't be more than a few months old.

She was humming something soft and slow in its ear. I just stood there, leaning in the doorframe, watching her stare down at the baby's red, curly hair and brown eyes. There was something distant about her gaze, like she was looking into another lifetime.

_Maybe you were..._

Hermione jumped when she finally noticed me.

"Tom," she whispered. "Must you lurk?"

"I must," I said, slipping into the room. "What's his name?" I asked.

Hermione let out a long breath. "She... and her name is Rose." Her lips stretched into a smile. "I've always loved that name."

"It is pretty."

Hermione glanced up at me. "Want to hold her?"

I jolted back. "Hold – uh – what – no I don't think that would be a good idea."

She laughed softly and tucked the baby closer to herself. "I try to come in here everyday and hold all the babies for awhile. It's important for children to be held, touched when they're young. That's not easy in orphanage but I try."

"You always know how to make the best of a situation."

"I just want to help."

"I know," I whispered. Rose's tiny eyes had shut and her chest moved up and down, soft and rhythmic. "She's asleep. Put her in the crib and come with me."

"Where?" Hermione asked, standing up to place Rose in the crib.

"I want to take you and Elliot to the park." I reached out my hand and she slowly took it.

"Nice day for the park," she said.

I squeezed her hand. "Yes it is."

We found Elliot who was asleep in the corner, a book on his lap. I woke him and the three of us walked down the street to the small, but well-shaded park.

Elliot and I kicked an old ball we found and Hermione sat on the swing, watching us as the sun started to fall behind the horizon.

I wasn't sure how to tell them where I was going the next day – or if I should tell them at all. I guessed I'd leave a note and say that I'd be back sometime. Or that I'd owl them. Yes, that was what I would do tonight, but for now I just wanted to be with Elliot who needed me and Hermione who I needed.

For a few hours, I didn't even think about Brax.

My heart caught when I returned the room that night. Elliot had fallen asleep on the couch and I carried him to bed. I pulled the linens up to his chin then hurried to the white owl in the window. I recognized it immediately.

This was Merlin. Brax's owl.

Mouth dry, I debated throwing the letter in the trash or setting it a flame, but instead I took a deep breath and opened the wax seal.

_My dear Tom,_

_I know you never want to speak to me or see me again. I understand that. But if you change your mind, you're always welcome here. I'm still your best friend. And I will love you every day of the rest of my life and nothing and no one changes that. Not my parents. Not Leila. Not even you._

_You have my heart until the end of time,_

_Brax_

Anger and sadness and pain fighting inside of me, I slumped down on the bed, crushing Brax's note in my hand. How did he expect me to live with this? To just get on with my life when he wouldn't let me go? When he had to keep saying he loved me? It wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

I paced across the room until my feet and calves ached. I had to get out of the orphanage. I had to run. My hands were shaking and it was all I could think about. Getting away. I couldn't wait until early morning. I had to leave now.

I grabbed a pen and piece of paper and wrote a quick note.

_Dear Hermione and Elliot,_

_I believe I've found my father. I'm going to meet him. I'll return soon._

_Yours,_

_Tom_

_P.S. Thank you, Hermione. For everything. _

I held it to the table with a book then took a deep breath and apparated from the orphanage to the town of Little Hangleton where my parents had met. Where my father and grandparents now lived.

It wasn't until I was standing on the dark street looking up at the black manor perched on top of the hill that I realized it was foolish for me to come so soon. I'd have to wait until the morning to knock on their door. If I approached them at this house, they'd think I was some sort of crazy person.

Then again, I really hadn't thought through all the things they might think of me. A strange boy showing up at Tom Riddle's door claiming to be his son, his namesake. They might think I wanted money. That I was lying. But I would make them see. Make them understand that we were family.

I always found a way.

It was a few hours to sunrise so I nestled beneath a large tree and let myself drift into a light slumber. The warm morning glow of the sun woke me from sleep. I adjusted my clothes using a quick spell and made myself look as put together as possible.

Propelled by the possibility of having a real family, I hurried to the door and knocked once, knocked twice. And finally the door opened.

I meant to be calm about it. Collected. I meant to ease it into the conversation, but when I looked at the dark hair and deep blue eyes of the man in the doorframe, the word just fell from my mouth.

"Father?"

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update. I've been out of town. Hope this moved the story forward a bit and you liked it. Even if you don't see him, remember Dracula is always there trying to ruin things. Please review and thanks for reading.**


	26. The Riddles

Blue eyes and dark hair stared at me. Tiny crows feet touched his eyes and the corners of his lips. He reached up and put a hand to his temple, his brow furrowing.

I quickly shoved my hand in my pocket when I realized I was doing the same thing he was. It was a tick of mine when I was nervous. Apparently I got it from my father.

He kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. He just kept looking back at me and me at him and it was one of the most uncomfortable moments of my life.

I was the one who eventually broke the silence.

"I apologize," I said. "I meant to be more subtle."

He shook his head and was speaking, but not like he was really trying to talk to me. "No. No. No. I can't. I can't do this." His fingers gripped into his hair and he turned on his heel and ran toward the back of the house, knocking a lamp to the floor and shattering it on his way out the back door.

I just stood there, shocked, feeling queasy. An enormous amount of blood rushed to my face. What had just happened?

"Tom?" I heard a woman's voice say my name, quickly realizing it must not be me she was calling for, but my father. "Tom – what's happened?" The stairs squeaked and an old, wrinkled woman stood at the bottom of them. Her cloudy blue eyes examined me.

She blinked a few times and the tone in her voice became sharper.

"What did I tell you, Tom? Get inside and what in the Good Lord's name did you do to that lamp? Come on – come on, boy." She gestured to me.

How could I have done anything to that lamp when I was standing the doorway and it was halfway across the living room?

I hesitated – had she been calling to me? She had a hand on her hip and cocked eyebrow and she was looking at me like it was very much me she was talking to. Slowly, I stepped inside.

She grabbed my arm and tugged me forward. "Now I'll get you the broom and dustpan. You'll clean this up right now, Tom, before your father gets home from the office." She stomped into the kitchen, but was still shouting back at me. "Where were you again? Lollygagging out by the old Gaunt place again like I've warned you not to time and time again – those people are not right in the head. Something strange is going on in there and the way that girl looks at you. Trouble. All of them." The woman, who I suspected was my grandmother, came back in the room without a broom and dustpan.

"What's wrong with the Gaunt place?"

She sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's not the place. It's _them. _The boy is crazy – can't even speak proper – always jabbering like he's been possessed by the devil himself."

"Someone lives in the Gaunt place?" I asked. It didn't make sense. That placed had been abandoned for a long time, since before I was born as far as I knew.

"Did you hit your head on something, Tom? Got a fever?" She pressed her hand to my head. "Or did those Gaunts bewitch you?"

"Gaunts live in there now?" It was impossible.

The woman gasped, putting a hand to her head as she stared down at the broken pieces of blue ceramic. "Oh I've gone and done it now. I broke my husband's favorite lamp. He'll be right cross with me." She bent over to pick up the pieces, but her hands were shaken frantically so I took her arm and stopped her, concerned she'd cut herself.

"I'll take care of it," I said. Something was definitely wrong with her, or her memory.

When she looked away, I reached into my pocket grasped my wand and whispered, "Reparo." The pieces of the lamp knitted themselves back together. I was hoping she forgot it was ever broken in the first place.

When she looked back at me, her head tilted slightly. "Who are you? You're not some salesmen, are you?"

"Umm..." I said, completely at a loss for what was going on. "No I'm..." I wasn't sure what to say. I doubted she could understand that I was her long lost grandson. Five seconds ago, she'd seemed to think I was her son and this was almost two decades earlier.

"No I'm not. I'm not sure how to explain this-"

I was cut off by a dark, booming voice that seemed to shake the whole place. "Get that abomination out of my house." Heavy boots slammed against the hardwood.

He had salt-and-pepper hair, deep set black eyes, tanned and wrinkled features. Was this my grandfather?

"Excuse me?" I said.

His teeth were clinched together. "I know what you are. Unnatural. How dare you-"

Instinctively I clutched my wand. "How dare I what?"

"Darken my doorstep with your evil ways, Gaunt. How dare you steal my son's face, _sorcerer_?"

"Thomas, Thomas" The old lady clutched her husband's arm. "Please calm down."

"Hush, woman." He shoved her hard enough she tripped back into the table. A rush of anger shot through me.

"Leave her alone," I nearly shouted. "I didn't steal your son's face. I look like him because he's my father. That's how it works, you know?"

"Your not his son. Your just the demon spawn of that succubus mother of yours."

This man, Thomas, was spouting off a lot of ridiculous muggle notions about the supernatural and I was fighting a strong urge to show him exactly what real magic could do.

"Don't talk about my mother," I said. "It's not my fault your son abandoned her and me."

"She bewitched him!" Thomas shouted. "Forced him to do unspeakable things."

The old woman's head was in her hands and she was muttering something. She shot up from her chair. "Let's have tea. Come on, Thomas, Tom. Let's all just sit down for some nice tea." She started searching the cupboards.

"He is not your son!" growled Thomas. "You crazy fool!" She cringed at his voice. There was something in the way she cowered whenever he spoke that sat wrong with me.

"She's sick. She's obviously sick. Just let her be," I snapped.

"You can't come into my house and tell me how to talk to my wife. She's mine to do with as I please. Now you will get out of my house."

"Or what?"

He smirked then drew a pistol from his jacket and pointed it at me.

"I'm disappointed. I was expecting holy water or salt. Some equally idiotic nonsense." Even though I was trying to look cool, my heart was racing and my hand was already on my wand.

Would expelliarmus work on a gun?

_No, but avada kedavra would._

"Put the gun down, father." That was another voice, coming from the back door. My father's voice.

"Shut up, Tom. This is none of your business."

"This is every bit my business," he said. "He's_ my _damn son."

Something warm swelled inside me as he called me his son. I wasn't quite sure what the feeling was. It wasn't like the comfort or connection I felt around Hermione or Brax. Not even like the way I felt about Elliot, but it was something. Or the start of something maybe.

My father stepped between his father's gun and me. "That's enough."

Thomas snorted. "You've been nothing but a worthless mess for the past sixteen years. Won't even move out of the house."

My father stared down at his feet. "I stayed to take care of mother."

"Is that the best excuse you have for why you can't act like a man?"

"I am a man!" he shouted. "It's you – you're the coward."

With the hand that wasn't holding the gun, Thomas backhanded my father across the face.

He stumbled back – and my grandmother started to sob uncontrollably into her hands.

All I could think was _what in the hell did I just walk into?_

"All of you _stop!_" I nearly screamed. I hadn't heard my voice like that in a long time – cold, demanding.

"Shut it, boy," growled Thomas.

"_Stupefy,_" I said, my wand pointed at his chest. He flew backwards and smashed against the wall near the fireplace. "You _shut it._"

My father looked at me, eyes wide and mouth open, an expression that could have been anger, or surprise or relief, I couldn't tell.

"Is he dead?" my father asked.

I shook my head. "Temporarily unconscious. It's a stunning spell."

My grandmother blinked a few times. Her wrinkles deepened as her face pinched.

"That's an odd place to take a nap, Thomas. You'll get soot on your trousers. I'll get you a new pair." With that, she left the kitchen.

My father and I glanced at each other, just briefly and without thinking about it. He grinned and then I did too – and we both laughed. I was surprised at how alike our laughter sounded.

He sighed and his shoulders slumped. He avoided eye contact while he asked me this question. "How is your mother?"

I swallowed. For some reason, I would have thought he knew. "She died – the day I was born. I've lived in an orphanage ever since."

"I didn't know."

I wasn't sure I wanted to ask, but I needed the truth. "Did you know about me?"

He nodded. My stomach turned. My father knew I existed and he didn't want me.

"Oh," I said.

His eyes darted to the slumped, passed-out Thomas. "How long will he be out?"

"An hour maybe. It was a pretty strong spell."

"I know this hard to understand..." My father half-smiled. "I just realized I don't know your name."

"Tom," I said.

"She gave you my name?"

I let out a breath and said these words almost below my breath, but loud enough for him to hear._ I was getting angry already I didn't even know it. _"She _loved _you." I crossed my arms.

"She tried to make me love her. You can't make someone love you – it's sick and twisted and doesn't work that way."

Heat rushed to my face. I didn't want to hear anyone speak badly of my mother, even if he was my father. Especially if he was.

"It was your choice. You didn't have to marry her. You didn't have to..." I wasn't even sure what to say next.

My father approached me cautiously then put his hands on my shoulders. It was strange being touched a person I used to hate, thought I'd never meet. Now I didn't know how I felt.

"I didn't have a choice. She was giving me a love potion," he said.

I shook my head. She wouldn't? That was a lie. An absolute lie. He could tell from the things she'd kept of his. His mother loved her husband.

"If she was giving you a love potion, why did it stop working?" I asked skeptically.

He half-smiled, letting his hands slip from my shoulders. "She stopped giving it to me."

There was only one reason I could think of for why she would stop giving him that love potion. "She _did _love you."

"Yeah – at the end, I think she finally did."

A little bit of the anger subsided but then it came back even harder. She really loved him, but he just pushed her away. I thought of Brax, of the way it felt like dying over and over and over as he told me we couldn't be together.

"But you, you never loved _her_."

He shook his head. "You can't choose who you love."

I knew better than anyone the truth of that statement. If someone let me decide who to fall in love with – well I would have said no one – but under no circumstances would I have picked a mudblood and a boy. Yet, I loved them both and if someone gave me the chance to change it, I wouldn't.

Still you could choose how you acted, right?

"Even if you didn't love her... you could have loved me," I said and then felt really stupid for saying it. I wasn't tired of begging people to love me, to want me. That never should have been my life.

"I was young and stupid. I wanted things to be normal again. My mom was sick and I was off with your mom, so I didn't even know it. And as you've witnessed tonight, this would have been no place to raise a child."

"It would have been better than the orphanage," I mumbled looking away.

"Would it?"

I thought of Ms. Cole's laugh and sitting under the Christmas tree lights. I thought about tea and the tree outside my window. Sometimes other kids picked on me, made me angry. But looking back, I didn't see that as much as I saw those little flickers of good.

_For the love of Merlin, what has Hermione done to me? Of course I'd be better off out of the orphanage. Mom wouldn't have died if it wasn't for how heart broken she was._

"She died because of you. You killed her," I said through my teeth, not a hundred percent certain where the burning anger was coming from. All I knew was how real and total and unending it felt.

"What are you talking about? I didn't kill her."

"You were the only thing she had in the world and you abandoned her."

"She took away my choices, my free will, Tom. I couldn't forgive that. I'm sorry, but I couldn't. I still can't."

I remember vaguely when my grandmother walked in the room, but she did it so quietly, with such little fuss, and I was too focused on yelling at my father to really notice or care.

My father straightened his tie and glanced down at Thomas. "You should get out of here before he wakes up."

"What?"

"Just go, Tom."

"For now or-"

He paused. "It's been too long. Too much has happened between your mother and me. She hurt me and as much as I wish it didn't-"

My heart was pounding, my hands sweating. My eyes burning. "I remind you of what happened."

"And how can I trust you? I want to, but I can't trust you. You could do to me what she did. How could I ever know any thing was real? That I was free. I can't go back to that. I can't. I won't." His arms folded across his chest and he was pacing, his words flying out of his mouth.

"I wouldn't."

"_Sorcerer's lie._" The way he said that I was like he was repeating something someone else had told him, that he suddenly wanted to remember. "I think it's best if you just go."

"Father-"

"Please don't call me that. Please. Live a good a life, Tom. Just not here, not with me. Go." He wouldn't even look me in the eye.

Here he was. My own father rejecting me. Just like he rejected my mother all those years ago. And it was because of her, because of magic. To him, I was a freak and nothing more.

_If he wants a freak, I'll give him one._

The anger and bitterness was biting across me, making my body tingle and my hand grip my wand. I was so mad. Every bad memory rushed back to me, wild and feverish. Brax leaving me. Hermione leaving me. Being alone at the orphanage. My mother leaving me. Everyone left me. No one trusted me. Everyone was afraid of me. And it hurt. It hurt so much more than it should have because it was like I was blind. Blind to anything good. A second ago, I could see all the different aspects, light and shadow, in life. Now it was just all darkness.

The darkness that had been fading since Hermione showed up, crashed back on me in a furious wave. It was so much, too much at once. It was like I was standing outside of myself. I didn't understand what I was doing.

I was rage and fury wrapped around a heart that had been broken one too many times.

It wasn't planned. Honestly, I'm not sure I meant to do it. Later, I know I didn't. At the time, I just wanted to feel in control again. Cold and empty and just become the thing everyone already thought I was. The thing maybe I was destined to be.

A killer and monster.

My whole body shook, violent tears escaped my lips.

"Tom, calm down," my father said. "This is what I was talking about. Calm down and get out!"

With a salty tear at corner of my lip, I shouted it my voice cracking and wand aimed directly at his heart. "_Avada kedavra."_

I'd used the curse before on animals. It had always been just one thin, green light. This was nothing like that.

The spell exploded out the tip of the wand, splitting the air and green light sparked everywhere around the room. I ducked behind the table, shocked, stunned, unsure of what just happened. When the light finally dissipated, I stood. And there they were.

Three dead bodies.

My whole family dead on the floor because of me.

_What have I done? _

**A/N: Thanks for reading. I'd love a review. Is Tom going to return to his old ways or can his friends help him? Also, I'm planning on writing some one-shots to go with this story from Brax and Hermione's POV. If there are any scenes you'd like to see from their perspective or scenes that would have been of camera i.e. Brax when he went home for Christmas, let me know! Thanks again.**


	27. Shifted World

I sat there, legs crossed, on floor. Staring, staring, staring into empty space. Everything was still and black. Numb. As if I was an abyss, dragging the world inside myself, crushing it into nothing.

That was what I did. Wasn't it? Why did ever believe it wasn't? I destroyed things.

Someone could have walked in. Someone could have seen me. I had no idea how I long I waited there. Unsure what I was waiting for or if I'd ever move again. It could have been an hour, five hours, a day, when the front door opened.

Hermione stood in the doorway, frozen, the wind pushing her hair and the pink skirt of her dress forward. She would hate me forever and I would deserve it.

"What did you do? Oh, Tom. What have you done?" Hermione's hands were over her mouth. "How could-"

I glanced at my fingers. As clean as the deaths were, as untraceable, I still felt blood on them. Then, I looked at her again.

Tears burned down my cheeks, stinging my eyes, pooling in the corners of my lips. I'd cried in my life, for Brax. Never for myself and never like this. Sobbing uncontrollably.

"I didn't mean to – I don't know what happened – I was so angry." I grabbed my father's head in my hands, stared into his still open eyes. He had my _damn_ eyes. I pressed my forehead to his. I knew it was impossible, but I screamed anyway. "Wake up! _Please. _You're not dead. You're not." My face burrowed in the space between his neck and his shoulder. He smelled like pipe tobacco and spearmint and I just kept breathing it in, a part of me hoping it would somehow kill me.

Hermione gripped my shoulders, tugging hard. "Tom, stop. Tom." She tried to pull me away from my father, but I wouldn't let go of him. "There's nothing you can do about it now."

I looked at her, tears burning my eyes. "Don't you think I know that. I know what I did!" I shouted.

I expected her to flinch, to move away from me, but she didn't. Hermione didn't react at all. "Why did you do it? I thought-"

"I was...I didn't think...I'm just so angry, so damn pissed, Hermione. At everyone. People just push me away. No matter what, no matter how hard I try. I'm always on the outside of everything. And I'm sick and tired of it. Tired of begging for people to want me. It's pathetic-"

Hermione's fingers gripped into my arm. "It is not pathetic."

I pulled her grip away from me and stood. "Yes, it is. I never needed anyone before. I was alone with my magic. I had plans, great plans. I was going to be the most powerful wizard in the world. Maybe that damn vampire's right. Maybe this is just who I am."

"You're an idiot, Tom. That thing you were before. That's what made you pathetic. Now," her voice softened. "Now you're anything but pathetic."

I was still too angry to process what she was saying, the kindness in it. I glanced down at my father's limp, dead body. The tears pressed even harder at my eyes. The guilt burned inside me, heavy and strong, tearing me apart.

My voice was soft, breaking as I said this, "He's my father, Hermione. My own father didn't want me. If he doesn't want me...no one does. Even Brax doesn't want me-"

"You know that's not true," said Hermione.

"He doesn't want me _enough_. Not Brax, not my father. No wants me," I shouted. "Not enough for it to matter."

"I do," whispered Hermione so quietly I almost wasn't sure she said it.

I sucked in a sharp breath, a sudden silence pressing down on the room. "What did you say?"

She stepped closer to me. Tears were in her eyes now, dripping down her cheeks. Hermione wiped them away with the back of her hands. "I do, Tom. I want you."

I shook my head. No. She couldn't. Not now. Not after all of this. She was standing in a room with people I killed how could she possibly want me now. "No. You don't." I turned away from her. "How could you? I'm a murderer and you said-"

_You said you'd never want me._

Hermione grabbed my arm and pulled me back to her. We were so close, so mind-shatteringly close, that I felt I was going to die just like the rest of my family.

"How could you want me now?" I whispered in her ear, fighting the urge to sink into her arms.

"I don't know. I've wanted you for a long time, even if I wouldn't admit it to myself. What happened with the Chamber terrified me because I thought it confirmed everything bad I believed about you, but I was wrong about that – and I was wrong about you."

"But you're not wrong now." My hands clutched her face. "I did this. I killed them."

"And that's how I know I want you, that I'll always want you-" She paused, drawing in a breath. I didn't understand. "Because even now, even with all of this, it's you, Tom. My heart beats faster when you're in the room, everything is stronger, more real when you're there. You're broken, Tom. But we're all broken. If I can want you now, in this place, if I can want you knowing everything I know about you, don't you think I'll never stop wanting you? Even I have to admit it – have to accept that – I love you, Tom Riddle."

I just stared at her, unable to form words. I'd known it since the day we met. She would change everything. Hermione Granger with those earthy eyes and that thoughtful look on her face. Hermione Granger with her convictions and her recklessness and her beautiful, beautiful bravery.

Here she was – right here – wanting me. Me for all my shattered, wounded pieces.

The world shifted, like the whole nature of everything just changed at her words like the most powerful magic ever spoken.

"Come with me," I whispered, my eyes locked on her, trying to memorize every freckle and every sweep of her bones. Of the girl who wanted me. Who was the first person I ever wanted.

I spared one last look at my family, so still and quiet on the floor, then took Hermione's hand and walked from the house into stars and moonlit night.

"Wait," said Hermione, stopping in her tracks. With the hand that wasn't holding mine, she removed her wand from the pocket of her dress and pointed it at the house. "Is there anything you would like to say?" she asked.

I paused, thinking, but there was nothing that would change anything or make it better or give anyone closure. I shook my head.

Hermione squeezed my hand tighter, then flicked her wand, releasing a stream of golden flames that roared and grasped onto the side of the Riddle house, swallowing it with heat and smoke and speed.

I understood what Hermione was doing. Giving me a second chance. People would think that the Riddle's died in a fire. No one would ever know the truth.

"We should go," I said. Holding her close to me, I shut my eyes and disapparated.

We appeared just a few blocks away under a dead tree, outside a gloomy cottage, steeped in despair.

"Where are we?" asked Hermione. "I thought we were going back to Wool's."

I tucked her loose tendrils behind her ear. "Not yet – and this is the Gaunt family home."

"What?" her voice snapped.

"Trust me." My eyes locked with her.

"Please tell me what you're doing." Hermione sounded a little worried, but she wasn't moving away from me. On the contrary, she'd drawn closer.

"Making some changes." I wasn't even quite sure where I'd gotten the idea. Sometime after Hermione arrived, I'd started to think about it in the back of my mind. About who I wanted to be in a shifted world and the what the future would mean. The image of the place my mother was raised kept flashing into my mind.

What I'm really not sure of is how I knew it would work. Then again, I'd always understood magic. It was just something that came natural to me. My blood was magic.

I pointed my wand at the house and breathed the incantation Hermione had taught me. "Expecto patronum," I said.

Two bright, full-bodied patronuses shot from my wand. The otter and the ferret, both dancing around the dead trees, the brown grass, the torn shingles and the vine-covered stone. A light pulsed everywhere. The darkness had been there before was not natural darkness, but the heavy black of dark magic.

Hermione had her wand out and I heard her whisper the same words, "Expecto patronum." Suddenly, the whole place was glowing, silver and beautiful. That dreary feeling lifted away as the grass turned green and the leaves erupted on the trees. The house looked as I could now tell it was always meant to be.

A cozy, bright cottage with stone walls and big windows. Two tall oak trees in the front. The scent of everything fresh and good and alive.

"It's... it looks so beautiful, Tom."

"Yes I know," I said, but I wasn't looking at the house. I was looking at her.

My hand gently cupped her cheek, my thumb softly running over the skin, dipping into her lips. She inhaled, her eyes wide. I smiled and leaned in. Slowly – so slowly, enjoying every beat of the moment before my lips met hers. It had been so long, too long, but I wanted to remember every second.

Her lips met mine and our mouths moved gently together. Just as always, she tasted of toothpaste and lemon. Such a fresh, light combination.

I could still feel the pain, pounding inside me, but I kept kissing her because she was pushing it back, shoving it away, like the sun consumes the night.

When we parted, I took both her hands in mine and led her down the narrow cobblestone path into the house.

Expecto patronum must have worked on the inside of the house too because it was clean and warm, with soft sofas and pillows. It kind of smelled like cookies.

"I wonder where the bedroom is," said Hermione then put her hand to her mouth like she was surprised she'd said it.

I couldn't help but let out a small laugh.

"I didn't mean-" she blushed.

"Yes you did," I whispered against her neck, pressing my mouth to the soft, beating flesh.

She ran her hand down my shirt, teasing the buttons, but not releasing them. She grabbed the fabric and pulled me down the thin hallway.

My whole body was going crazy, my mind too. I wanted her so badly and she wanted me too and it was perfect.

Hermione pushed open the first door. It was a bathroom, so she moved to the next. It was round room with a large king bed with green linens in the center. Through the window, you could see the flickers of fire from the Riddle house burning.

I flicked my wand at the wall lanterns, illuminating them.

"I don't know if I'll believe this if I don't see it," I said, my lips almost pressed to hers but not quite.

"We've done this before, you know."

I shook my head. "Not like this."

We'd always been at odds before. Unable to admit how we felt. I was terrified about what we were about to do. After what happened with Brax, how could I not be? I couldn't bear her abandoning me like he did.

"You won't leave me in the morning, will you?" I laughed, but because she was Hermione, she understood I was being serious.

"I couldn't leave you, Tom. Even if I wanted to."

My hands pushed under the straps of her dress, pulling them down her shoulders. I kissed the tiny freckles across her skin as I asked. "Do you want to?"

"I shouldn't."

"But you do?"

"Yes, Tom. I want you. I -"

I cut her off before she could finish. "I...I love you too, Hermione. I think I have for a while now."

With that I bent down and kissed her again. Slow and soft, trying to say everything I never could say with words. Her small hands gripped into my hair, mine ran down her body, touching every curve, flat and corner I could find.

My hands gathered the fabric of her skirt and pushed it up her thighs, exposing the pale flesh of her legs. I pressed against her, against the wall. Taking my time with each kiss as I moved from her mouth, down her neck to her chest.

She reached to the side and unzipped her dress, letting it fall to her floor in a pile at her feet. Hermione stood there in a red lacy bra. I couldn't help but run my fingers over the delicate fabric, feeling her soft flesh hidden just beneath.

"Did anyone ever tell you you're exquisite?" I breathed against her skin.

It wasn't a question I expected her to answer and she didn't. I just looked up at the blush on her cheeks and kissed her as hard as I could.

Her fingers went to my buttons as our mouths parted. One at a time, she worked open the buttons, kissing down my chest. Her tongue darting into my navel.

"_Hermione_-"

My shirt was on the floor near her dress. Once again, my eyes were drawn to her red bra.

"May I?" I asked, lifting my hands just above her ribcage.

"Yes."

My mouth was dry as I explored her body. Hermione reached back and unclasped her bra.

"How are girls so good at that?" I asked.

"I remember you being pretty good at it." She laughed and it was a lovely, comforting sound.

Still in my trousers, I pressed her onto the bed, holding my self above her with my arms. I unlatched my belt buckle with a click. Hermione shivered then reached up and slowly removed the rest of my clothes.

"Unfair," I said. "You're still dressed."

Hermione looked down at herself. "I don't think you'd call this dressed."

"No I guess not." Starting at her neck, I kissed the rest of the way down her body. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but her, but the way she was breathing and sighing and giggling. The way she was making me forget all the things I'd lost.

It wasn't like she was numbing the pain. She was taking it away, filling it with her goodness, her joy, her light. A light that was so strong the sun would be jealous. I wanted to touch her, to burn myself, because I needed, needed, needed, her light. To drown in her goodness.

How did this girl even exist? This girl that could love me and all my weaknesses and all the crazy that came with it?

As I looked in her eyes, I knew she saw me. Not what she wanted me to be, or feared I was. Not a Riddle or a wizard or a Slytherin. I didn't have to be anything with her other than me. I was just Tom and she was just Hermione. That was enough. That was perfect.

"Come here." I fell back onto the bed, then caught her under the leg and flipped her on top of me.

"Tom!"

"Yes," I smirked.

She leaned down and kissed me again, then trailed her kisses back to my ear, licking and sucking on the lobe. I growled as my whole body tingled with every soft touch.

I reached down and pushed the rest of her clothes off very glad I'd turned the lights on as I did.

"Tom," she said as she brought our bodies together. My whole body tensed with the touch. I grabbed her shoulders to bring her even closer, as close as we could be.

"Mmm?"

"I'm glad we met. I'm glad I'm here."

"Hermione – we're having sex. I certainly hope you want to be here."

She giggled then pressed her lips together. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" I asked as she laid down on top of me.

"Make me laugh."

"Well, sorry. I can't help you there. Your laugh is the sexiest thing in the world."

"This is serious, Tom."

I smiled, bringing my lips to hers quickly. "I know, but I don't think I laughed until I met you. Not really. So laughter is about as serious as it gets for me."

Hermione sighed. "You're an idiot," she breathed against my ear, but there was genuine affection in it.

"You're the one having sex with an idiot." I flipped her over so I was on top of her again, pressing our bodies together.

She opened her mouth to say something and I pressed my finger to her lips. "Enough talking. It's distracting me."

And it was because as soon as I kissed her again, all I could feel was the way our bodies connected, the warm feel of her all around me. I could hardly breathe as she moved and as I moved in time with her. Our mouths meeting over and over. Faster and hotter, until that shifted world melted around us.

"Tom!" she shouted in my ear and it was the most wonderful sound I'd ever heard.

"Hermione," I whispered as my body collapsed on top of her. "Hermione...I,"

"Shh." She was still breathing heavily. "Just stay with me."

"I'll always stay with you."

A few hours later there was knock on the window. I slipped out of bed to see what it was, being careful not to wake Hermione who was softly snoring at my side.

It was a black owl with a crooked beak and molting feathers. I took the letter strapped to it's leg and it flew off.

My fingers unfolded the letter and when I read the words, my heart caught in my chest.

In elegant script, the letter read:

_You have no idea what you've done._

_C.D._

That damn vampire.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. I love, love, love to get your reviews and thoughts and just anything. You're all so awesome :) Hope this was good for all you who have been waiting for some Tomione. I also hope his reaction at the beginning doesn't seem to different from what happens at the end because he's just so desperate for happiness and to be wanted that even if the happiness doesn't last forever, he can push away the pain, long enough to be with someone he loves. Anyway, Dracula will never leave them alone so never get comfortable. He's always there, ruining things for everyone. **

**Next chapter will be a big one with lots of plot changing stuff happening so prepare for that. Thanks again!**


	28. Together

The soft linens were all around me. I breathed in the minty lemon scent of Hermione still held in the covers. It took a few blinks for me to remember the note Dracula had sent and that deep sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach returned. I reached over to touch Hermione, but she wasn't there. My heart jolted and I sat up. Relief washed over me. She ws pulling on the same pink skirt she wore yesterday and standing at the foot of the bed.

Light streamed in through the windows, casting a bright shine over the messy bed, the grey dresser and vanity and the small bookcase.

"You're still here." I smiled and climbed from the bed. I searched the floor for my boxers. They were a few feet away. I slipped them on slowly. Hermione stole a glance.

"Of course I am." She tucked her hair behind her ear. She was now fully dressed. "We should get back to the orphanage before Mrs. Cole asks too many questions. Elliot said he'd make up an excuse but that's only going to work for so long."

Guilt sank into my chest. As I pulled on the rest of my clothes I said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" She tugged on her high heels.

I took her hands and pulled her to face me. "I never should have left Wool's. I should have stayed with you. I was just – "

She gently touched my face. I bit the inside of my cheek as my heart beat faster. "I know, Tom. I know."

I waited a moment, but couldn't stop myself from saying, "I've been thinking." And I had been thinking, ever since what happened with my father...

"About what?" She ran her fingers through my hair, sorting it into place.

"You can say no. I'll understand if it makes you uncomfortable given...everything...but I was thinking I'd like to go to Brax's wedding."

Hermione kissed me on the cheek, warmth radiating out along my skin. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

I pulled back. "Really? It doesn't bother you? I mean what happened between us doesn't upset you." Nerves tickled my neck. I scratched it away.

She shrugged. "It's kind of hot actually."

Hot was word I'd only heard Hermione use in that context, but I knew what she meant. I laughed. "You're perfect, you know that?" She really was. Most girls would be upset by what we'd done, but she just looked at me, love shimmering in her eyes.

"Just noticed?" She raised an eyebrow.

Worry knocked suddenly on my chest. What if Brax had given up on me? "You don't think he'd mind? He might not want to see me. I mean I wasn't very kind to him last time we were together."

"I know he wants to see you."

"How do you know...for sure?"

She rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was being silly. "He told me. We've written to each other this whole time. He _is _one of my closest friends."

Heat rushed to my ears. "You guys didn't talk about-"

She put her hands on her hips and stared at me. "Of course we did. He was rather graphic about it. Diagrams and everything. I'm about to write him a letter about last night so we can compare notes. Come up with a strategy for you to improve your form."

I narrowed my eyes and stepped toward her. My arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her body flush with mine. "My form is excellent." I breathed in her ear.

She released a shaky breath. "Yeah...it really is."

I slammed her against the wall, pressing my leg between hers. Our mouths met, hard and fast. She grabbed my shoulders and spun us around so she was in control of me. My shirt was still open. She worked kisses down my chest, slowly, covering every inch of skin she could find.

The world exploded around us, a million colors I'd never seen before. Every time I was with her the feeling grew, overwhelmed me. Dark and grey things became brilliant, beautiful, arrayed. She ran her fingers over the world, over my world, and made it good.

After we got dressed and cleaned ourselves up, we apparated to an alley a few blocks away from Wool's where no one would see us. Hands locked together, we walked the rest of the way through London. The sun burned bright above us as yellow as an egg yolk, glistening off the building windows. Pigeons cooed in the buildings eaves and few children laughed in the streets. The London bombings of last summer had ended and a new hope settled over the city, and over me as well.

The front door of Wool's opened and Elliot, his dark hair mussed, wearing shorts and a striped shirt, rushed down the steps. He hugged Hermione. "Hermione you're back."

"Hey Elliot." She squeezed him back.

He lifted his head away from her and glared at me. "I covered for you."

"Thank you." I smiled at him. He just turned away and looked at Hermione.

"I'm going back inside to play," he said with a huff.

"Okay, El." Her lips pressed together in a smile. Elliot jogged back inside without looking back.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked.

Hermione shook her head. "You left him. He looked up to you and you left with no guarantee you'd be back, Tom. He's angry."

"I didn't think he cared." My voice was low.

"Well he does. Your like a big brother to him and he has no family. You left without any real explanation. Just a note. You're going to have to make it up to him."

"How?"

Hermione squeezed his hand as they ascended the concrete steps and pressed open the door. "Start by apologizing."

I groaned. Apologizing was not my forte. It wasn't something I did at all until recently and I still didn't like it very much.

"Go on." Hermione pushed my back.

As much as it bothered me, she was right. I never should have left them and gotten involved with those muggles. Elliot reminded me of myself, angry and alone. But he didn't have to be alone anymore.

Elliot sat in a circle with a few other boys, playing cards in the center. They were laughing, but Elliot was stone faced.

"What are you playing?" I knelt down beside Elliot.

He leaned back and whispered, "Quidditch."

_Great...sarcasm..._"Can we talk for a moment?"

Elliot shook his head.

"Fine. I'll talk, you listen." I grabbed his arm, pulled him to his feet and dragged him into the other room. "I'm...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left. It was a stupid thing to do. The people I care about are here...not there. It was a mistake, okay?"

Elliot looked down at his feet then back up at me. "You actually care about us?"

I sighed and touched Elliot's shoulder. "I might not be the best at showing it. I've never cared about much, but you and Brax and Hermione. Yes, I do. I care about you."

He tried to look cross, but I could see the smile on his face. "Gross."

I leaned against the wall. "If you want, you can come with Hermione and me to Brax's wedding? He lives in a mansion. You ever been in a mansion?"

His eyes lit up. "A real mansion? With butlers and servants and golden hallways?"

I didn't know. I'd never been in a mansion either. "Um...sure."

After that, Elliot was in a much better mood. For the next two weeks, we were all in good spirits, though sometimes I'd have nightmares of what happened at the Riddle place. He played with other kids, came with Hermione and me to the park. Sometimes, at night, we'd sit up and talk about other favorite kinds of magic. I'd never had someone like that in my life – someone who I had to look out for. It was strange. I never thought I'd be good at it, caring for others. It was stupid, a waste to think of others...that's what I'd always believed. Had I been wrong?

I had asked Hermione not to say anything to Brax about us coming to the wedding, just in case I backed out. I didn't want to get his hopes up and then let him down. So our coming to Brax's wedding would be a surprise for him.

We weren't sure it was a good idea, but Elliot wanted to try side-along apparation, so we allowed him. He was sick afterwards, but in a few minutes, his stomach calmed and we were able to walk up to Malfoy Manor.

My hands were sweating and my heart was thrumming. Hermione held my hand, brought it to her mouth and kissed it as we walked to the front door.

Malfoy Manor was a tall, black mansion with sharp spires, and an expansive lush green lawn dotted with tall leafy trees. To the left sat a garden of blossoms, all fresh, crisp white, their floral scent permeated the air.

I held my breath as we stepped to the front door and knocked. A few moments later the door squeaked open.

A wide-eyed house elf in the traditional burlap sack stood, shadowed in the frame. "Hello Sir, Hello Miss. How can I help?" The house elf looked up at us with his big glossy eyes.

"Dobby?" Hermione's mouth slacked open.

The house elf's head turned slightly. "Miss knows Dobby's name?"

"We're here to see Br- Abraxas Malfoy," she said.

He nodded. "Yes, yes. Of course." The elf disapparted.

My hand slipped away from Hermione's, all but our locked pinky fingers. I heard rubber soles squeak on black hard wood and then Malfoy's lovely face came into view. His eyes were wide with surprise, his mouth smiling. He had a bit of scruff on his face and looked much healthier than when I had last seen him. As Brax hurried down the hall toward me, I swore I was going to shatter into a million different pieces.

"Tom?" He put out his hand.

"Hello, Brax." I took it and held it, his skin rough and warm against mine. I couldn't help but pull him into a tight embrace, an emptiness in the corner of my heart filling up, pushing back the darkness.

His voice was shaky. "I thought –"

"I was wrong." I whispered against his ear, breathing him in.

Brax broke away from me and reached over to muss Elliot's hair. "Hey kid, glad you're here."

Smiling, he pushed past Brax. "Where are the golden hallways?"

"What?" Brax raised an eyebrow and I just laughed.

He reached out an arm and pulled Hermione into him. She hugged him back. "Hermione. It's wonderful to see you.

"You too," she said into his shirt, holding him tight.

I jumped back and pointed at a grey and black bird waddling across the floor. "Brax, is that a goose?" What in Merlin's name was going on in this place?

His shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. "Leila!" he shouted.

A few moments later, Leila came sliding out a room down the hall. Her hair was pulled up into a newsboy cap. She was wearing pair of Brax's rolled up trousers and a white button down shirt, splashed with paint. She looked harried, like she'd been running around mad for three days straight. "There is a perfectly rational explanation for that."

"Which is?" Brax crossed his arms as she approached us.

"His name is Clem. My mother ordered doves for the wedding, but these showed up instead."

Brax's looked stunned. "These? There are _more_?"

She nodded curtly. "Fifteen in total"

"So now we're having geese at our wedding?"

Hermione was eyeing the geese, concentration on her face. "I could transfigure them into doves."

"You can?" Leila gasped.

Hermione flicked her wand at the goose and transformed into a beautiful white dove.

Leila squeaked and grabbed Hermione's arm. "What are you waiting for then? Come with me." Leila dragged Hermione down the hall. Elliot was inspecting the corridor closely as if checking for flecks of gold.

"There are some others outside. Leila's cousins and a few of mine. If you wanted to join them. You might know them from school," said Brax. Elliot nodded and hurried down the hall to the glass door.

I glanced down at the new dove whose head was moving back and forth, looking disoriented. "Poor Clem."

Brax laughed and shook his head. "It's been...interesting here, but it's better than I thought."

Hermione spent most of the day transfiguring doves with Leila. Brax and I used magic to hang lanterns on the trees in the garden. Brax took a break to play some quidditch with the younger cousins. I had to stop myself from staring as Brax's lithe frame moved nimbly on the brooms.

Elliot and I were set up in a room near Brax's and Hermione was staying with Leila after Leila kicked her sister out of the room and into the broom closet. Apparently, she'd been the one to order the geese instead of the doves.

I enjoyed the warm days at the manor, sneaking off when I could to kiss Hermione in dark alcoves and run my hands along her sides. She was beautiful and I realized it more and more each day.

A few days before the wedding, Brax and I were in a dressing room together, trying on our dress robes. They'd been fitted earlier, but now we were just making sure they looked right.

I forced myself to avert my eyes as Brax pulled into his white trousers and buttoned up his shirt. He was all dressed in his three piece suit except for the tie.

Brax turned around and smiled. "What do you think?" The dress robes were crisp and bright, they fit his body perfectly. A heat burned in my cheeks and in my chest. I swallowed.

"That looks...damn, Brax. I'm probably not the one to do this." _Because I'm about to tear all those clothes off..._

Brax held up two ties, examined them in the mirror, then picked the regular silver tie over the white bow tie. "You're the perfect one to do this." His eyes lingered over me. "You should try yours on."

I tugged off my shirt and trousers then pulled on the ones for the wedding. My dress robes were black. When we were dressed, Brax and I stood in front of the mirror.

"Not bad." He straightened his tie. There was an awkward pause. "You and Hermione...you're together? I never asked."

I nodded, my heart picking up speed. "Yes."

"Are you happy?"

I sighed. Happy wasn't a strong enough word. Complete for the first time in my life. "I love her, Brax."

He ran his hand over my cheekbone, igniting my skin with his touch. "I know. You always have."

"I love you too. I don't know how that's possible, but it is." I stared down at my feet. It wasn't something I should say, but it was true.

Brax lifted my chin so I looked him in the eye. "I know that too. And my feelings for you, they haven't changed."

I couldn't go down this road again. It would kill me.

"This isn't helping anything." I moved away from this touch. I had to.

"No." Brax swallowed.

"So what's Leila like?" I changed the subject.

Brax laughed. "I'm not entirely sure there are words in the English language...but she's not that bad. If I had to be forced to marry someone I didn't love to make my family happy and stop a vampire from killing them, I'm glad it was her."

"Romantic."

He stuffed his hands into his pocket. "I really am happy for you and Hermione. She loves you. Together, you two, it's like a magical power explosion."

"It's not her magic...that's not the reason."

He half smiled. "I didn't mean it like that."

The door squealed open. Leila and Hermione stood in the doorway. They were both wearing lavender dresses for the party the women were holding tonight. Leila examined her future husband.

"Abraxas. White? Really, who are you fooling?" She bounded into the room, her skirt bouncing.

"Leila!" Brax shouted.

My heart sank to my feet. I leaned over and whispered. "Does she know?"

Leila smirked, "Yes."

"How?" I snapped.

Brax just shook his head, apparently defeated. "She knows everything."

"It's true." She smiled confidently.

"Did you need something?" he asked his fiance.

Leila shrugged, then flashed a look to Hermione. "I think Hermione was hoping to catch you two in a compromising position. It turns her on-"

My girlfriend's eyes widened. "The hell?"

"Oh yeah that's not going to get annoying for the rest of your life," I whispered to Brax. There were many thoughts in my head better off private.

"Is that all?" Brax touched her shoulder, half smiling.

"Actually the cake has arrived."

"That's good," he said.

"There's been a snag though. My sister was trying to charm it so it had no calories. Instead it sprouted limbs and is now running around the foyer, flinging frosting at the house elves." She jogged to the door where Hermione was. "Well, come on." She waved us forward.

I laughed and said to Brax, "At least you know your life is never going to be boring."

We ran out behind the girls and sure enough in the front hall of Malfoy Manor a cake, as tall as I was, with arms and legs, and newly sprouted mouth was painting the walls with frosting and juggling crystals vases. It would have been impressive magic if the caster would have known how to control it.

Hermione and I managed to corner the wild cake, its candied eyes gleaming at us. We both cast an immobilization hex at the pastry. It exploded in blue light, frosting and cream. We were all covered head to toe.

Thank Merlin for scourgify – and Brax's charming personality and wizard bakers who could make a new cake in day.

The night before the wedding, following the rehearsal, Elliot was off playing with some of Brax's cousins and Brax was with Leila shooing off the lingering guests from dinner. Hermione was somewhere fighting with Leila's sister so Leila didn't have too. Alone, I returned to my room, and undressed except for my boxers a t-shirt. I sat on a small sofa by the window, looking out over the moonlit grounds. Tomorrow Brax would promise himself to someone else beneath the flower in that garden. There was an empty hole in the pit of my stomach.

The door squeaked open. It was Hermione wearing a tight black dress that exposed most of her back. My eyes lingered on her curved frame, mouth getting dry. I couldn't manage to say anything.

"You okay?" Hermione sat down beside me. I put my arm over her shoulder and pulled her into my chest.

"I'm fine." I sighed.

Her deep brown eyes looked into mine. "It's okay if you're not. I understand."

My thumb ran over the split in her lips. "It's you, Hermione. I want you." I really did. I wanted her as much as person could want another person, but being back here with Brax. I ached for him too.

My lips met hers. She opened her mouth for me so I deepened the kiss. The way she tasted, the way she felt. The breath was sucked from my chest. Such lovely perfection.

She broke the kiss and whispered, "You want us both."

I kissed her forehead. "Does that matter?"

"Not to me."

Slowly, I pulled her into my lap, her weight against me."We're meant to be together, Hermione Granger. Me and you. You've had to have noticed by now?"

She nodded. "Yes. It's hard, though. We're so...different." She grabbed her head suddenly and gasped.

My hand stroked her face. "Are you feeling well?"

"Just a little tired – and a bit dizzy" She yawned, her fingers still held to her temple.

I grinned, pushing her down on me. My fingers traced up her bare back. "Too tired to fool around?"

She giggled. "Just a little, Tom."

My hands ran down her arms as I pushed her back on the couch, hovering over her. My lips touched her neck, her ear. She kissed me back, just as hard, in all the same places. I picked her up and tossed her on the bed. Hermione laughed.

"How am I here?" she breathed.

"What do you mean?" I asked as I slid down on top of her.

"Nothing. It's just – a year ago – I never would have thought. Not in a hundred million years."

I thought of the things that used to matter to me. They still did. I was still ambitious, still obsessed with powerful magic. I couldn't wait to return to Hogwarts for my final year, but I wasn't certain what I wanted to do with my life. The Ministry was nothing but a bunch of old wizards patting each other on the back for being adequate. Hermione and I were destined for something more...I could feel it, but what?

"Me either," I finally said.

She flipped me over and started kissing my chest, her mouth tracing its way down my body. Hermione grabbed my boxers and tugged them off. Her tongue and mouth kissed and licked all the places she never had before. I gripped the sheets, looking down at her, amazed, perplexed by her beauty, her intelligence, and how we ever found each other.

I loved her so damn much.

Brax's wedding day had finally arrived. The wedding wasn't until the afternoon. Leila, Hermione and the rest of the girls had spent the whole day apart from us. Brax and I had breakfast with Elliot and then played a little quidditch, though I looked rather ridiculous. I'd only seen his parents in passing. They never spoke to me and mostly glared at Hermione. Apparently they'd heard she was a muggleborn. After the wedding though, Brax's parents were moving to their chateau in France, leaving the Manor to Brax and Leila. But, they had assurred him, they would be there to check on him often and make certain he wasn't disgracing the name of Malfoy.

We returned to the small changing room when it was time to dress for the wedding. I was doing my best not to think about it, that it meant losing a part of Brax to someone else.

Brax was shaking. Trying again and again to put on his tie, but failing. "Sorry I'm really nervous."

"Let me." My hands gripped the fabric and I started to tremble. The nearness to him was always too much. Holding my breath, I tied his tie like I had all of those years in school.

"Thanks," he whispered in my ear. I shuddered.

His hand fell on my neck, the pad of his thumb stroking back and forth. "There's something I need to ask you. I shouldn't...it's wrong."

Heart tripping, I stepped back. "What is it, Brax? You can ask me anything."

His breath shook, he ran a hand through his hair. "Kiss me." His voice was dark, serious.

My gaze snapped up, my insides lurching. "What?"

He grabbed the lapel of my dress robe. "I just want you to kiss me one last time."

_I want to. I want to. I want to. I shouldn't want to. I won't._

I shook my head. "I can't."

His hands slowly dropped away, disappointment painting his beautiful features. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

"I'm with Hermione. I couldn't do that to her." I touched his hand, a part of me wanting to bring his fingers to my mouth.

"I know, Tom. I'm sorry." He sounded desperate.

"Kiss him, Tom." It was Hermione. She shut the door behind her. The red dress that hugged her curves made my whole body go numb. And the words she'd said they were...

"What?" My voice broke on the word. She couldn't be serious?

"Kiss him." Hermione took a step forward and nodded. I could see it in her eyes. She meant what she said.

Holding my breath, I closed the distance between Brax and me. He tensed as I lifted his chin and covered his mouth with mine. My heart stuttered in my chest as I ran my tongue along the seam of his lips. They parted and I gently pressed deeper. He groaned, one hand on my neck the other on my arm. Both my hands were on his chest where I could feel the rhythm of his trembling heart.

Hermione watched the whole time, her gaze intent on us. I never thought I'd get to kiss Brax again and here we were, his lips meeting mine, my girlfriend just steps away. My hands forced us apart. Breathing heavily, we both looked at her.

Hermione eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open ."I was right. That was hot."

We both just laughed, unsure what else to do. Brax and I still stood close, the backs of our hands touching.

She pulled a case of butterbeer out of that magic bag of hers. "I brought something. Remember?"

"How could we forget?" Brax smiled. My mind flashed back to the time I was in the hospital wing after we fought the vampires.

I cast a spell that popped the tops of each of the drinks. Brax handed one to each of us.

Hermione smiled and spoke, "It all started here - with a vampire and three butterbeers. We've disagreed, fought, made mistakes. We've broken each other's hearts. Somehow we've still managed to do what's necessary – and if we stick together, the three of us, we'll keep doing it because..."

Brax glanced at me, then Hermione. "We belong together."

She touched his hand and smiled at me. "Yes."

Something changed in that moment, something new, stitching us together. Not just me and Hermione. Or me and Brax. Or even Brax and Hermione. It was all three of us, a private, unbreakable bond.

I lifted my bottle, suddenly remembering his wedding. "Let's toast to Brax – "

He shook his head. "No, to us."

Together we all said, "To us."

When it came down to it, when I was standing by Brax's side, listening to the harps play and watching the dove's flittering in the trees, in a world where it couldn't be me, I was glad it was Leila. She wasn't stupid like we'd believed in school. She just liked to hide her skills so she could surprise people. I mean, she was nuts, don't get me wrong. Certifiably crazy, but the right kind of crazy.

Her dress was long and elegant, lacy and glittery, like a muggle movie star. I still clenched my fists when he leaned in to kiss her and when the officiant said the words, "I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Abraxas Malfoy." My eyes met Hermione's who was sitting in the front row.

The boy who'd been my friend when everyone else was afraid, the boy who loved me in secret, the boy who was the first person I ever loved. He wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man and I loved him more in that moment than I ever had before.

After the ceremony, the Malfoys threw a huge party in back of the Manor. There were entertainers, food, drinks and an enchanted swing band where the instruments played on their own. Crowds of fashionably dressed witches and wizards danced beneath the glimmering lights of lanterns I had hung in the trees.

Hermione and I were walking through the crowd, holding hands. I stopped beneath a tree and leaned down and kissed her gently. "Thank you for being there for me," I whispered.

She pulled away and smiled when she was tackled away from me by a flash of white. When I saw Brax standing there, hand in his pocket, his dress robe jacket open, I knew it was Leila.

"I don't know what I would have done without you this week." She hugged Hermione.

Hermione hugged her back. "It's was my pleasure, Leila." Even though they'd never spoken much at Hogwarts, they'd become something like fast friends here.

Leila turned to me. "I'm not sure she stopped for more than fifteen minutes. She basically took over the Maid of Honor duties because my sister's a horrible shrew."

I wasn't sure what to say to her shrew comment so I just said, "You look beautiful," which was very true.

She smiled and her face glowed. "Thank you." Leila extended her hand to me. "What would you say to a dance with the bride?"

I had forgotten that she once had feelings for me. Not that I assumed she asked for that reason, but it just came to mind in that moment. We all had past and feelings and lives that were changed.

I stepped back. "I don't really dance."

She wagged her finger at me. "No one, not even you Tom Riddle, denies a bride a dance on her wedding day."

Brax grabbed Hermione's arm and spun her around. "Don't worry. I'll dance with your date while you dance with mine."

Hermione laughed. I shrugged and followed Leila onto the dance floor. The enchanted big band played a beautiful, slow song. It sounded something like "Moonlight Serenade" but was just different enough that they could claim it wasn't a muggle song. I held Leila in my arms but as we danced, I kept looking over my shoulder to Brax and Hermione.

It was an incredible sight. The two people I loved more than anything in the world, holding each other. He'd whisper something and she'd laugh. His hand was low on her back, her hand was holding his.

"You're staring," Leila whispered.

"Sorry." I tugged her a little closer, hoping she wouldn't continue with her comment.

"You know one of them is my husband."

"One of them is my girlfriend. Maybe I'm staring at her."

Leila shook her head with a quick eye roll. "You're staring at both of them."

My shoulders slumped. "Seriously, how do you do that?"

"It's a mix between the sight and leglimancy. My great grandma had it too."

The music to picked up to a fast swing beat, the sound of happy saxophones in the air.

"I'm not sure I know how to dance like this," I admitted. She shook her head and gestured to Hermione and Brax who were dancing like they had all those months ago at the Slug Club, like they could get paid to do it for a living.

"Those two will do the dancing for us." She laughed, took my hand and we walked out of the way.

While they were dancing with all their bubbly enthusiasm, Hermione stumbled forward. Brax caught her waist. "Hermione? What's wrong?" he asked. I was already rushing across the room. She let out a gasp and collapsed to the floor, pulling Brax down with her.

"Hermione!" I shouted and ran to her side.

No. This could not be happening. Not now. Not ever. I needed her and we needed each other. She had to be okay. She had to be...

**A/N: Pretty sure this is the longest chapter yet. A lot happened in there so I hope it didn't move too fast. Thanks for reading! Please review and leave your thoughts. It means a lot to me!**


	29. St Mungo's

The several hundred people at the wedding fell perfectly silent, just watching the scene before them. Watching my world unravel and burn.

"Hermione. Please, please wake up." I grabbed her face, squeezing her soft cheeks between my fingers.

"Dobby." Brax's voice was constricted, stern.

"Yes, sir?" The house elf replied.

Brax's arms were crossed. "Go get the St. Mungo's portkey and bring it here."

I ran my hands over her body. Using my wand, I cast every healing incantation I'd learned since our first confrontation with Dracula. "Merlin, Hermione. It's not working." People, people everywhere were closing in, closer and closer. I couldn't breathe. "Can everyone just back up?" I shouted.

"Hermione? Oh, no. What happened? What's wrong?" Elliot pushed through the crowd and fell to his knees besides me. Tears started to well in his eyes as his cheeks reddened.

"We don't know yet," said Brax, placing his hand on Elliot's shoulder and pulling him to his feet.

The elf levitated the portkey in front of Brax. "Thank you, Dobby."

Leila put her arms protectively around Elliot, then looked up at her husband. "Go with them, Abraxas."

"What about me? I want to go." Elliot sniffed.

"I think it's a better idea if you stay here with me, okay? Abraxas will owl and keep you updated." Leila's voice was calm and even. She pulled Elliot closer.

Brax knelt beside me, his hand on my back. "It's going to be fine, Tom."

'Don't make promises you can't keep," I snapped.

Even though there were people all around, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eye. "I won't let you lose her and that's a promise I will keep."

I latched tighter to Hermione, then touched the portkey at the same time as Brax. My insides constricted and the three of us were sucked from the grounds of Malfoy Manor into St. Mungo's Hospital.

We arrived in a round room filled with other patients, limping and moaning and broken out in weird boils.

"What's the emergency?" asked a woman wearing the white robes of a healer as she emerged from a back door.

"She passed out. She won't wake up," I said frantically.

The woman crossed her arms. "We've got other patients you know, with serious magical medical conditions. We can get her in a bed, but that's all." A couple of healers lifted her onto a floating cart.

I reached toward my wand without thinking about it. They would help Hermione and I didn't care how I got them to do it...

Brax stepped between the healer and me. His voice as stern and authoritative as I've ever heard it, he said, "Look. This is a healthy young girl who won't wake up, not with any of the usual magical remedies. My name is Abraxas Malfoy, my family donates a million galleons a year to his place, you will see her and you will see her now."

The female healer's lips pinched together. "Yes, sir."

We followed her through the busy, cold halls of St. Mungo's. I'd never been there before. I'm sure there were plenty of interesting magical medical conditions all around us but all I could think about was Hermione and if she would be alright.

The healer pushed Hermione's bed into a room. Her face was pale, but her chest rose and fell gently. I tensed as about five other healers came up as well.

"You need to stay out here," the woman healer said harshly. She tried to slam the door, but I caught it with my hand.

"I'm not leaving here."

"You can stand by the bench, but you can't go in while they perform the tests." She huffed.

"I'm going in." I pushed harder against the door, nearly knocking her over. No one was keeping me away from her, not now. Not when I could lose her.

Brax laid his hand on my shoulder. "It's fine, we'll stay here." He pulled me away. The only one in the world who possibly could.

I turned and shouted, "Brax!" My face was flushed, my breathing uneasy, my heart beating so fast I could hear it in my ears.

Brax's voice was soft as he ran his hands down my arms. "Tom, calm down, please. This isn't helping."

"I don't care if it isn't helping. I can't lose her. We can't, we need her," I muttered, taking in sharp breaths.

"We won't lose her. She'll be taken care of, it's going to be fine." His fingers were under my chin, calming my anger against my will. How did he do that? How did they both do that?

I wrapped one arm around my torso. "My chest hurts. I can't breathe."

"That's because you need to calm down. Come here." Brax threw open a door and dragged me inside.

It was dark and smelled of cleaning potions. The room was also extremely small so our bodies were pressed against each other, leaving my body very confused.

"Why are we in a closet?" My voice cracked.

His hands were on my cheeks. Some of the potions were glowing, giving off just enough light for me to see the stormy grey of Brax's irises. Why did he have to be so pretty? "Just look at me and breathe."

Our chests were rising and falling together. "Looking at you is not going to help me breathe."

He let out a small laugh and I couldn't help but join him.

Brax's hands ran down my jacket and over the buttons of my shirt. "There you go. It's okay. Hermione is going to be fine. She might be scared, who knows what's wrong. You need to calm down so you can be there with her, okay."

He was right, he was always right. I pulled Brax possessively against me, leaning down so my face was pressed in the space between his neck and his shoulder. "What would I do without you?"

"Probably murder hundreds of people," Brax said lightly.

My stomach clenched as I thought of what had happened to the rest of the Riddles...what I'd done. "Yeah." I swallowed.

My lips were against his neck and I was just breathing him in, letting his nearness calm me.

"We should get out of this closet. So we can be there when the healers tell us about Hermione." Brax's voice shook as he said it and gently tugged away from me. He held my hand for a quick moment and the dropped it as he opened the door and stepped into the hallway.

It was still empty and cold and I still had no idea what was wrong with Hermione and if she'd be okay. About thirty minutes later, one of the healers came out. Thankfully, an older wizard, not the young witch with the bad attitude.

"Mr. Malfoy? Mr. Riddle?" The older wizard asked, a thumb on his mustache.

We both stood and said at the same time, "Yes."

"You're here with Miss Granger?" He raised his bushy white eyebrows.

I stepped past Brax, my hands shaking. "Yes. How is she? Is she?"

He smiled politely, but not kindly. "She's awake."

I grabbed Brax's arm as relief poured over me. "Thank Merlin. Brax she's okay."

"She's awake. Are you both just her friends or?" asked the healer.

"She's my girlfriend."

The healer huffed. "Step inside. Can I ask you to wait here, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Brax?" I wanted him to come with me...but I also wanted to be with just Hermione for a moment.

He touched my hand. "It's okay. Go." Brax always understood me. That's what made him Brax, why I loved him so much.

The room was dark, except for a small window. Just one bed sat in the tiny room. It just felt drab and sad.

"Hermione. You're okay. Thanks – You're alive. I'm so glad." I sat down on the edge of her hospital bed and kissed her over and over. Every time our lips met, the world felt like a saner place to live.

"Tom, I need to breathe." Her hands gently pressed against my chest.

"Oh." Trying to gain control of my emotions, I let out a long breath. "What happened? Did they say?"

She shook her head. "No. They just asked if I was married and I said no, but I had a boyfriend. Then I gave them your name. Are you here alone?"

"Brax is here. Elliot stayed with Leila."

Hermione's pale face fell in her hands. I just wanted to wrap my arms around her protect her from the world, but she didn't need protecting. "I haven't been feeling well, dizzy and a headache, just kind of under the weather. I never thought it was that bad. I didn't mean to ruin the wedding."

I took her hand and kissed it. I hated being separated from her even for just those few minutes. "Brax is just worried about you."

That rude healer from earlier entered the room.

"Miss Granger, is this your husband?" she said coldly.

"My boyfriend."

"Oh...right." She gritted her teeth together and looked me up and down. "There are several options for women in _your condition._"

I stood up quickly, my heart jolting. No, no, no. Nothing could be wrong with her. I wouldn't allow it. "What condition is that? What's wrong with her?"

"This girl is with child." Those words didn't make sense, but they were heavy, so heavy they cracked the world down the middle. "There is a potion, though I would not recommend such an act. There are special camps for women like her."

Anger erupted through me burning me from the inside. I stepped toward the pinched face woman, my voice high and cold. "Shut up and get out."

"Excuse me, boy." She looked offended. I didn't give a damn.

"Get out now." That was a warning no one could ignore. She turned and let the door swing shut.

I couldn't even think, not even begin to think about what this mean for me, so I just turned to my girlfriend. Her mouth was wide open, her eyes misty, her whole body tense as if she'd been petrified. "Hermione... Hermione are you okay?"

It took a few moments, but she finally answered, her words trembling. "I don't understand how this happened. I don't...I always take my potion. I've never missed."

A horrible nauseating thought rocked me. Was this another attempt of Count Dracula's to control our lives?

"Do you think?" I asked. Our eyes met and I know she knew what I meant.

She head fell in her hands. "Why would Dracula want us to..."

I touched her hair with my fingers. "Maybe we wants to prove I'm just like my father."

That I'd leave- that I couldn't manage to love my child enough for it to matter – that I would finally realize it's all too much. I'd have to give up too much for the people I care about. That maybe I'd see the power I lost and maybe I'd want it back... maybe I did...

Her face was soft, her cheeks blushing now. Those dark eyes were so alive and real and were looking not at me, but to me...I needed her, but she needed me to. We needed each other and we wanted each other too. I'd always want her no matter what else I wanted too. There would always be Hermione Granger, and I'd always want her just a little bit more than I could ever want anything else.

"What are we going to do?" She sounded desperate as I held her gaze and reached down to the family ring on my hand. It had been Salazar Slytherin's once. He might not like me giving it to a muggle-born, but I really didn't care. Everything I had ever believed about the world before I met her had been wrong. With the ring between my fingers, I did an awkward thing that felt perfectly natural. I fell down on one knee.

"What are you doing? Tom..." She jolted upright.

Taking a deep breath, I just told the truth. "I knew you were different from the first time I saw. I didn't know you would change everything. I've loved you for a long time . We're better together, stronger. We'll make each other happy, we'll take care of each other. I don't know what kind of father I'll be, but I'll try to give our child everything I didn't have. All I want to do is spend my life with you. Hermione, will you marry me?"

She was staring, staring, staring at me but not answering. There was something in her eyes at first I thought it was shock, but when I looked closer, I could tell...it was fear.

_Now I know why._

"Tom." Her voice was eerily calm. "Please leave."

**Thanks for reading. Please review! Hope you enjoyed this. I had a few people predict the Granger/Riddle baby so if this was you, good job! Sorry this was a short chapter, but the next one will be longer. (P.S. Give Hermione a bit of a break. Lord Voldemort did just propose marriage to her and she's carrying his baby). Thanks again. You all are the best!**


	30. The New Riddles

My body tensed. Had she just said? Yes, she had. It was automatic, like I shut down, and something else was controlling. I stood slowly, stiffly and walked to the door without looking back. When I was in the sterile smelling hospital hall, I picked up my speed.

"I have to get out of here." I rushed past Brax, hardly looking at him. Even he couldn't hold my attention now.

His eyes were wide; he gripped my arm. For the first time in months, I felt nothing. I couldn't let myself feel. "Tom, what happened? Tell me," he begged.

"Don't. I can't." I wrenched from his grip, and rushed through St. Mungo.

"Tom, stop." I heard Brax's but didn't listen as I stepped out of the hospital and into the evening.

I walked. I didn't run, but I walked as fast as I could. Wishing the hot wind could blow away my thoughts, my feelings, that deep ache growing in the pit of my stomach.

They'd all leave me eventually. Everyone. There was no one I could count on.

Her voice was a whisper, catching on the air, coming to me. "Tom! Please, Tom!"

I turned. Hermione. She wore a black coat over her hospital gown. Face pale, lips pale.

My voice was flat. "You should be in bed, in the hospital."

"You left."

My heart beat faster, harder, dozens of punches to my ribs. "You told me to."

"Yes." She stepped closer.

I stayed locked to the ground. Why was she out here? "Yes, I know."

Her eyes softened. Another step closer. Another punch to my rib cage. "No, Tom. _Yes_."

I wouldn't let myself believe it, not until I could be sure. "What?"

She reached out for my hand. I didn't reach for her, but didn't pull away either. "It took me telling you to leave for me to realize how much I didn't want you to. Yes. I'll marry you, Tom Riddle."

There are no words. Not in any language. No expression. Nothing. Just nothing that could express what I felt in that moment. And how much I felt it.

I crushed my lips against hers. Hard. And she kissed back. Lips moving, tugging, against mine.

My fingers fumbled in my pocket for the ring. I pulled out the cold metal and slipped it on her finger. Her expression was thoughtful, distant, even a bit melancholy as she looked in, ran her fingers over the silver grooves.

"What's wrong?" I whispered against her ear, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin.

She swallowed, then looked at my with faint, glossy eyes. "I think I'm just tired I should get back inside." Then Hermione smiled and kissed me again.

At the time, I wondered what she was thinking about as looked down at that right. Now, I know, and I wish she would have told me the truth then.

Hermione and I had a lot to discuss. We couldn't go back and finish Hogwarts with her pregnant, but they could go ahead and take the test with the headmaster this summer and graduate early. They already knew more than the seventh years anyway. They'd pass easily.

That only left a place to live, and I had come up with a great idea, if I do say so myself.

We found Ms. Cole in the kitchen on a cloudy afternoon while Elliot was out playing with the other kids.

"We're leaving Wool's, Ms. Cole," I said.

Her wrinkled brow furrowed. "You are? Why?"

"We're getting married, and Elliot's going to come with us." Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Ms. Cole smiled gently, looking from Hermione to Tom. "You have a place to stay? You're welcome to stay here if you don't. We could always use the extra hands. Couldn't pay you though..."

Hermione jumped in with the cover story we'd made about the old Gaunt Place. "We have a place. Some distant relatives of mine died. Didn't even know about them until I got the call."

Ms. Cole wrapped her arms around Hermione, pulling her close. "Well, okay. It's been wonderful having you sweetie."

"Thanks," she said softly. I never thought I'd have a goodbye like this from Wool's, even if it wasn't really goodbye yet. We had a few weeks until the wedding where we'd stay here.

Ms. Cole's gaze was stern as she regarded me. "Come here."

I embraced her. She smelled like laundry detergent and lemon cleaning solution. Like my childhood.

"You're invited to the wedding." I said as I pulled away and took Hermione's hand.

Hermione smiled and handed Ms. Cole the invitation. "We'd love to see you there."

She coughed a few times into the sleeve of her blouse. Then took the invitation. "Wouldn't miss it."

We didn't have the money, or any money at all, for a big wedding. We didn't really want one anyway. Just our closest friends, somewhere quiet. And soon. The only difference I'd noticed in Hermione so far was a sudden preoccupation with food.

It was blistering hot summer day, the sun beating down on the London pavement. I wiped the sweat from my brow before pushing open the door to a small muggle bakery with a little pink awning, and holding it from Hermione.

With a sigh, I stepped inside behind her. A little bell rung on the door as it swung shut.

"Why am I here?" I asked.

Hermione put her hands on her lips. "Because we're picking out a cake. A nice, normal cake. It's the one thing I want. Okay? You like cake, don't you?"

I scratched my head. "Yeah, sure. It's fine as food goes."

"Cake is delicious," she corrected

"You're just pregnant and hungry."

"You know whose fault that is?" Hermione punched me in the arm. I grimaced. "So, you know, feed me."

"What kind of cake are you looking for?" The tall blonde lady asked, adjusting her glasses on her crooked nose.

Hermione started talking quickly, her gaze drawing over the cakes in the glass display. "Chocolate, raspberry, possibly lemon, do you have pineapple cake?" Her head popped up over the counter.

I placed my hand on her back. "How about vanilla?"

The woman said, "We have an excellent vanilla cake."

A horrible _screech-thump-smash_ echoed through the tiny bakery.

"What was that?" I asked.

The woman smiled awkwardly. "Nothing. It's fine. Just the pipes. We're getting them fixed."

"That doesn't sound like pipes." Hermione looked at me skeptically.

"I mean what else could it be, right?" The woman grimaced. She didn't believe what she was saying either...

Hermione grinned. "I need to go to the bathroom."

"There just up those stairs," said the worker. ""I'll go get a cake sample."

The cake-lady trotted behind the counter and disappeared behind a swinging door.

A hand laid on my shoulder. I jumped.

"Hermione," I snapped."

She leaned in, her wild hair falling into my face. "It's a ghoul."

"I thought you were going to the bathroom."

She just ran right past..."It's ridiculous the Ministry doesn't come and deal with these things. I mean aren't they worried about how these creatures affect muggles? And, on top of that, shouldn't they be worried about exposing magic?"

I sighed. She wasn't wrong. I mean it was Hermione. When was she wrong? "I'd bet Muggles would pay good money to have someone get rid of the ghosts, poltergeists and even vampires that the Ministry just ignores..."

"Probably...good money." Hermione's voice was thoughtful. Too Thoughtful.

The cake lady came in with one slice of vanilla cake and two forks. She was smiling. _Screech-thump-smash. _She grimaced.

Hermione perked up. "It's not your pipes. I've seen this before. We're in the business of getting rid of unexplained phenomena. If you'd like..."

"We are?" I said under my breath. Where on earth was the crazy woman going with this?

The cake-lady laughed, shaking the glasses on her nose. "If you get rid of that sound, you can have your cake on the house."

A smug smile appeared on Hermione's face. "Give us half an hour."

"What?" My voice almost cracked.

"Come on." Hermione latched onto my arm and tugged me up the stairs.

The attic floor squeaked as I walked on it. The smell of dust and mildew filled the air. We were surrounded by stacks of old crates.

She put a finger to her lips. "Be quiet. I'll coax it out."

"With what?"

"Some cake. Ghouls love cake."

Hermione pulled a smashed little pile of cake out of the pocket of her dress and plopped it on the floor.

"She has cake in her pocket." She never ceased to amaze me.

She looked at me over a stack of old crates. "When it comes out, take care of it."

"Kill it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No. What's wrong with you? Just stop it."

The warty green ghoul lumbered out from between two old boxes, scratching the hair behind his ear.

I drew my wand. "_Petrificus totalus-" _

The ghoul stiffened, his bulging eyes wide, and fell back. Hard.

Hermione scurried up to the ghoul then gestured to me. "Come here." She squeezed my arm and the weight of disapparation pressed down on me.

I scanned the dense trees, looking over the hill to the smoke of a small village, a castle in the distance. "Are we in Hogsmeade?"

"The forest just outside," she said simply, then performed the counter-curse for petrificus totalus. Once again, she gripped my arm and we were back in the attic.

Another smug smile. "Free cake."

I laughed. "You are a genius."

Fixing up the house had been Brax's wedding gift to us, which I really appreciated. We have no money, though Hermione had busy at work with her plan to rid the muggle world of the strange and paranormal. I couldn't help but think it was an odd thing for me to do, but at least it was good practice for fighting Dracula, and maybe we'd run into some creatures who might know where he was.

It was a few days before the wedding. Hermione had fallen asleep on the chair we had in our living room. Elliot was upstairs asleep on the bed in his small room. Brax sat beside me on the sofa. I'd never thought of having a place like this. A place with curtains and blankets and whatever kind of food I wanted in the cupboards.

"You ready for this?" asked Brax, falling down beside me on the couch. He leaned against my arm.

"For life with Hermione Granger. Yes...and no. You can never be prepared for that girl."

He laughed, and it was deeper, more mature than I remember. "No...no you can't."

I paused then asked, "How is married life?"

Brax shook his head, those grey eyes flickering in the dim light of my new living room. "There are no words."

"Leila _is_ a handful." I stretched my arm out across the back of couch, just behind his shoulder.

He looked at me with his lovely smile. "Well you're not just getting a wife either. You're getting a kid. Can you imagine, a little you running around? No worse than that...a little you and Hermione in one tiny baby package."

I squeezed his shoulder, tugging him closer to me. "What have I done to humanity?"

We both laughed. A quiet settled over the room.

With a shaky breath, Brax leaned up and kissed me on the cheek. His lips lingered one beat, two beats, on my stubbled skin. "Congratulations, Tom. I'm so happy for you. Both of you."

I kissed his forehead. After everything, at least we could be happy for each other.

The wedding was in a small little church by Wool's, that really looked more like an old country school house. Hermione had picked a wedding dress with Leila, that I hadn't seen yet.

The only guests there were Brax, Leila, Elliot and Mrs. Cole. Just the way we wanted it.

Hermione walked toward me, her hands shaking, but her mouth smiling, wearing a soft cotton dress that looked like thin clouds had reached down and covered her with their fingers.

_That was it. I hope you know, the moment you killed Lord Voldemort._

I took her soft hands in mine, the mother of my child, my wife. The breath was sucked out of my chest. We could face whatever we would face because we would face it together.

"I do." I squeezed her hand.

Hermione squeezed mine back. "I do."

The officiant spoke, but I wasn't looking at him. Just at Hermione. For the first time in my life, I had a family.

"I now present to you Mr. and Mrs. Tom Riddle."

_If only I'd known what was coming...if only I'd known what Count Dracula was planning..._

**_A/N: Sorry it's been awhile. This chapter was hard for me, for some reason. I made a big change to what I wanted to happen in it, that's going to happen later instead. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Hermione Granger is now Hermione Riddle. One day I promise to give her perspective of events. Thanks for reading. Please review!_**


	31. Prophecy

Elliot stayed with Brax and Leila for a week while Hermione and I went on a weekend trip to the beach. We stayed in a tiny cottage perched on the edge of a cliff where stories below the briny ocean churned and lapped against the shore.

I was so pleased to get away from everything, from everyone, but my wife. _My wife. _It didn't sound real when I said it and thought it. That didn't make it less real though. I had a family.

Hermione's stomach had yet to visibly grow from the pregnancy. She sat on the edge of the bed, wind from the open window blowing her curly hair. She wore nothing but my white button up shirt.

My breath hitched in my throat as I moved across the wood floor, slowly pulling the clothes from my body, leaving a trail to her. There was only one thought on my mind. I was Hermione Granger's husband. No...Hermione Riddle. I loved the sound of that. My name as her name. Our name.

_I still do._

"Ready to sleep?" she asked with a coy smile.

"Not a chance." I laughed, leaning over her, sliding her back on the bed. She smelled fresh, like lemons, like always.

To this day, I'm not sure how I got to that point. To holding myself up on my arms, looking down at a woman who'd pledged to love me for the rest of her life. Who I'd pledged to love for the rest of mine. But there we were. Together. Connected.

Something twinged deep inside me, a pain, a worry. The reason she married me was the baby. Would she have ever married me if she hadn't gotten pregnant? I tried to shake the thought away, and succeeded mostly, but the idea stayed locked in a dark corner of my mind.

Hermione's mouth met mine and her minty breath moved against my tongue. I reached down, slowly unbuttoning her shirt, my shirt, exposing her perfect, pale skin a tiny inch at a time.

I'd seen her so many times. We'd done this so many times but it just got better. So much better as we grew closer, as I knew what she liked and she knew what I liked. Our bodies were clay heated by each other's touch, molded until they responded perfectly.

_Merlin, Tom – I. You're...yes. Don't stop. Don't ever stop._

When she'd whisper things like this in my ear, growl them, it was like I came unspooled.

Kissing softly, gently. Her hands on me, my hands on her, we came together, and it was the best I'd ever felt. She was mine and I was hers. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing could take that away from me.

_No matter who tries...and plenty have._

I shouted her name and collapsed on top of her. Her hand went to my hair, twirling the strands between her fingers. My wife giggled softly and spun out from under me. I tucked her into my chest and her small fingers traced designs across my skin. Hearts, I could feel.

She yawned and her words came out as a soft mewl, "You're my husband."

My heart stuttered and I kissed her hair. "You're my wife."

The next morning we woke up tangled and naked in the sheets – and the day after that – and the day after that.

Needless to say, I was not happy when we had to go back to our normal lives, but Hermione assured me that we could never really be normal. I, however, was going to miss the uninterrupted hours alone with my wife. But Elliot quickly made friends with some of the neighborhood boys giving Hermione and I plenty of time alone. Time we did not waste.

She had also not given up on her idea to make money by helping muggles rid themselves of magical creatures and spirits they could not handle. She and Leila had spent weeks working on the advertisement that would go in the muggle newspapers. Something vague enough not give away the truth about their magical status, but something clear enough that the right people would contact them.

They'd put the ad in the newspaper but we'd yet to get a call. I wasn't entirely surprised; the majority of the muggle world probably thought we had all lost our minds, or we just trying to steal their money.

It was a Saturday afternoon. Fall had just begun painting the leaves when Mrs. Cole decided to visit our house. Hermione was starting to walk a bit slower and her stomach was rounding out. I could hardly believe it was our child, my child, growing inside her.

Elliot said a quick 'hello' to Mrs. Cole but then ran back outside for a game of ball in the street, though it gave Hermione a heart attack whenever he didn't play in a backyard. She swore he was going to get hit by car.

_He never did._

Mrs. Cole looked pale, her thin skin almost papery as I hugged her. Maybe it was nothing.

_It was._

She coughed into her arm and sat down on the chair as Brax and Hermione came in from the kitchen.

When they sat down the tea on the coffee table, Brax extended his pale hand to Mrs. Cole. "It's delightful to meet you, Mrs. Cole. I'm Abraxas Malfoy. Tom was my roommate at school. I take it you know about us."

Mrs. Cole's cloudy eyes flitted from Brax to me. "Yes, Tom here was heartbroken over you for quite some time."

Leila let out a large guffaw from the kitchen. Brax's face turned bright red and his gaze lingered on me.

I chuckled. "He meant about magic."

Mrs. Cole took a sip of tea. "Oh, right. Of course." I knew her well enough to know she had done it on purpose.

Hermione sat down beside me on the sofa and I draped an arm over her. Leila came in and both her and Brax sat down as well.

We talked for at least an hour about many different topics. She asked some questions about magic and Hogwarts, and about what it was like being married and what I thought about becoming a father.

The conversation trailed into something about her sister and a problem she was having about lights turning on and off and doors getting locked and unlocked on their own.

Both Hermione and Leila perked up, scooting to the edge of their seats.

"That could be a poltergeist," said Hermione.

"Yes, yes. It sounds like one."

Mrs. Cole coughed twice then looked up at the girls. "There are poltergeists? In _my _world?"

"We're in your world too, aren't we?" I drawled.

"Of course," said Mrs. Cole, looking slightly bemused.

"We could help your sister, you know? It's what we do." Leila smiled, tossing back her sleek movie star hair.

Mrs. Cole leaned forward. "Could you really?"

Leila and Hermione exchanged proud smiles. "Absolutely."

I took a deep breath and Brax looked skeptically at me. This would be interesting.

Next Tuesday, it was raining. Hard. But Hermione had made an appointment for us at Mrs. Cole's sister's house. When we started this whole thing, I never assumed Brax and his wife would be a part of it, but they were. I wasn't complaining about having Brax around. He was still my best friend, and hell of a lot of fun to look at.

Mrs. Cole's sister was named Della. She had bright dyed red hair and wore way too much makeup. The whole pink painted house smelled of lavender and old people. On top of that, she had a whole room of tropical birds that cawed and squawked loud enough to break ear drums. I seriously considered using the killing curse on one particular cockatoo.

"What did my sister say you did again? Electricians that also did locks?"

Brax's eyes widened. "That's what she told you?"

Hermione and Leila were slowly walking around the house, examining the furniture and the hundreds of weird ceramic cats on the shelves.

"Do you have a basement?" I asked. The ground shook slightly. I exchanged a quick look with Brax.

The woman's thick lipsticked mouth pursed. "A cellar."

"Where is it?" Hermione turned around her hands on her hips making her pregnant stomach stick out even more. I'd asked her not to come but she said she was perfectly fine, and of course, it was up to her what she did. Still I couldn't help but be nervous something was going to happen to her or the baby. I couldn't live with myself if it did.

The four of us climbed into the cellar. When I got to the problem, I held out my wand to protect Hermione just in case she slipped. When we were all on the ground, I flicked my wand and said, "_Lumos." _

The tip of my wand lit, illuminating the room. The others lit their wands as well.

It was a small dark space lined with old rotting preserves. The sickly smell of peaches filled the air.

Brax picked up one of the jars and examined it. "Yum."

As the girls moved further into the dark space, I put a hand on Brax's back. Cold swept through the room. My heart started beating faster and I wasn't sure why. Poltergeists were annoying, but they weren't altogether dangerous. It seemed something was off, wrong.

Brax suddenly gripped my wrist, his fingers pressed into my skin.

"Tom?" he whispered against my ear.

"What?"

"Look down."

There was red trail leading down the concrete floor. My heart lodged in my throat as I pressed the tip of my shoe to the red stripe and stuck to my foot.

_Blood. Fresh blood._

"Hermione," I warned, gripping my wand tighter.

Both Leila and Hermione let out a shriek, a gasp. Brax and I raced up to them. On the floor lay two dead boys, broken bones and drained of blood. I grabbed my wife's shoulders and pulled her beside me.

"What's going on here?" Leila's voice shook.

Instinctively, we all stepped closer together. I gripped my wand even tighter. The cellar door squeaked open and then locked.

"Della," said Hermione. "Is that you?"

"Oh yes, it's me."

I relaxed momentarily but then could see the old woman in the wand light. There were little trails of blood running down the corners of her mouth.

"I was dying, you know?" The vampire Della stepped closer. "Then one night several months ago my sister confided in me about what she learned about you." Her cold eyes were on me. "About magic. I thought if anything could save me, it would be magic, but your _kind -" _Della spat the word and I couldn't help but think of my grandfather. "Were just going to let me die. And then I found him." There was a nauseating amount of affection in her words.

"Count Dracula," I growled.

"And in exchange he asked me to do something for him."

"What's that?" asked Hermione.

Della's eyes went to Hermione's stomach and it was all I could do to keep myself from shoving a stake through the vampire's heart.

"I snuck into my sister's orphanage at night and replaced your birth control potion with a potion made by the Count himself."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to kill people.

"I don't understand," Brax said. "Why would Count Dracula want Tom to get Hermione pregnant?"

My stomach turned. Even though Brax asked a perfectly valid question I had been worried that Dracula was involved in this. But it couldn't be true. I wouldn't let it. I deserved this one good thing. My child, my wife. My family.

_I deserved nothing._

Della sneered; there was none of her sister's kindness in her face. At least not anymore. Maybe there had been once before she became a vampire. "The prophecy." She stepped closer. I stood in front of Hermione.

"What prophecy?" snapped Leila, her hands shaking.

"The Count did not share with me all of the details. Just what I needed to know. His heir shall inherit the earth, and when that happens, the world will be as he and Salazar Slytherin always wanted it. Void of muggle filth and mudbloods. Free for the taking of pureblood wizards and, of course, the immortals."

"_You're_ a muggle, you idiot," spat Leila. Leave it to her to always say exactly what she thinks...then again why hadn't she known what Della truly was. Leila was supposed to know everything. I wished I could ask her. A part of me feared, a distant part of me, that she could have been in on this. But why? She wouldn't. I didn't believe it.

"He thought Tom was that person." There was no question in Hermione's voice.

_Now I know why._

"Yes," said Della, her arms behind her back. "But he was mistaken. You are weak but the prophecy must still be true. Have you not considered it, either one of you? That child growing inside you, girl – that is a great, many times great, child of Count Dracula."

I turned my head briefly. Hermione's face was pale.

"We've heard enough from you," my wife snarled. "One vampire against four powerful wizards. I think the odds are in our favor.

_Incendio –_ the word was on my lips but never made it into the world, through my wand.

There was a crackling sound to my right. I turned. Fangs glimmered in the dim light. Eyes and fangs. Their skin had been painted black, painted into the walls. Dozens of vampires stepped forward. We were surrounded.

My heart beat so hard I could hear it like it was outside of me. I reached for Hermione and Brax, who had a hold of Leila.

_Disapparate. Disapparate. _It wasn't working.

Della laughed. "Wards, children. Wards." She released her own fangs. "Kill the three, but leave the girl with child. The Count wants her, at least until the baby's born. Then he'll kill her too."

This wasn't happening. I just found a family and now it was being ripped away. Destroyed.

_Hell, no._

I was Tom Riddle. I had once dreamed of being Lord Voldemort. Those stupid blood suckers had no idea who they were dealing with.

I would kill them all.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review! Sorry about ending on a cliffhanger but I love doing that. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and learning a bit more about Dracula's reasoning. Some bad ass Tom (and the others as well) in the next chapter. Thanks again!


	32. Bound

I shoved Brax behind me as the vampires closed in. I knew exactly what to do to fight them. Hermione and I had figured it out what seemed like a lifetime ago when Dracula first attacked Hogwarts.

"_Fiendfyre," _I shouted, flourishing my wand. A gust of fire exploded from the tip, curling out in the shape of dragon. Its flames licked across the first line of vampires, transforming them into a pile of ash.

A vampire hurtled itself at us, black eyes gleaming.

Hermione jumped into action , "_Incendio," _she yelled. The vampire burst into ash in mid air, crumbling to the concrete floor.

"We need to get to the door," said Brax. "Now. Tom lit the place on fire. We burn too, you know?"

I wanted him to say behind me, stay near me, just like I wanted Hermione, but there was no controlling either one of them.

Brax forged ahead. "_Aguamenti," _

A jet of water erupted from his wand, creating a opening through the fiendfyre.

"Go!" he shouted.

Leila, Hermione and I burst into a run, shooting spells back at the vampires as their dead hands groped, trying to find a way around the fire.

I turned, running backwards, heart slamming in my chest. I couldn't let anything happen to the people I cared about most in the world. They were all I had anymore, as ridiculous as that sounded. "Fiendfyre!"

Another dragon of flame heated up the room, rushing over the vampires behind me. The stench of ash and the sound of screams filled the air. Energy rushed through my body. I hadn't felt like that in a long time.

And I loved it.

We were running up the stairs, almost to the door, when wrinkled, pale hands reached out from the smoke, and pulled Brax over the railing.

He screamed, and my stomach lurched. And, suddenly, I hated it.

"Get out of here," I said to Hermione, then, without thinking, I launched myself over the railing into the ash not caring what was behind me.

I cast a bubble charm around my head so I could breathe as I groped around the dark smoke.

"Tom!" Brax managed to say.

_He's still alive, _I thought.

I kicked a chair. A wooden chair. "Redacto!" I shouted aiming my wand at the chair. It splintered into pieces. I scrambled, for a sharp wooden stake, grabbed it and ran further into the smoke.

Brax screamed again, and I followed the sound. I cast a gust of wind with my wand, blowing some of the smoke away. I saw my friend across the room, Mrs. Cole's sister, Della, with her mouth on his neck.

He was pale, so pale, and sinking to the floor. Almost dead. It was like I could feel it. Feel _him _slipping away from me.

With a shout of rage, I charged at Della slamming the dagger into her chest, twisting as hard as I could. I tore the stake away, then kicked her to the floor.

"Incendio!" The fire consumed her body.

"Tom," breathed Brax weakly. "Behind you."

I turned. Six vampires were in the air, fangs and arms out. They were coming too fast for me to cast a spell.

"Fiendfyre!" someone shouted. The flames came from the right and consumed the vampires.

When the fire cleared, I saw Hermione standing there, wand out. How had she learned to control that spell so quickly? Damn, she was good.

"I told you to leave."

"I never listen to you," she said with a half-smile.

"Brax?" Leila hurried up beside me.

He was lying on the floor, bleeding from his neck. I collapsed to my knees beside him and pulled his head into my lap.

"What do we do?" asked Leila. "Is there a spell for? He's lost so much blood."

I had no idea she cared so much Brax – cared at all really. Not like that.

Brax's eyes peeled open. Grey and misty, they looked up at me. "T-tom, I lo-"

"Shh-" I placed a finger over his mouth. "You're not dying. I won't let you."

Then I remembered a spell from the book Brax had given me at Christmas. A blood binding spell. With an incantation, I could magically take my own blood and fill his veins with it. Bind my life to his.

I leaned down, pressed my lips to his ear. "This will hurt a bit."

Brax' blinked dreamily, his mouth slacked open. "I don't care. I want you."

I bit down on my lip. With the blood loss, Brax wasn't sure where he was or when it seemed. That was clear because the last time I had said "This will hurt a bit." I'd been naked on top of him, kissing his neck and his ear.

"Can you save him?" asked Leila.

I looked back, her hand was over her mouth. Hermione was crying silent tears beside her. We all loved Brax – a lot – not just me.

I nodded then took my hand in his, trying to remember the incantation.

"_Your blood is mine,_

_my blood is yours._

_Your pain is mine,_

_and mine will be yours._

_Your life is mine_

_and my life is yours."_

I shouted and fell back, suddenly dizzy. Tired. Brax was moaning in pain. Hermione struggled to sit down beside me, her fingers running through my hair. I smiled up at her, then looked over at Brax who had now stopped groaning. He sat up.

"Tom what did you do?" he asked.

I was tired, but could talk. "I'm sorry. It was the only thing... I've bound us."

"_What?" _asked Hermione.

"Good question." A laugh fought its way out of Brax's mouth, but he looked nervous.

Leila sat down on the steps. "It's powerful magic. Almost dark, well pretty dark. As long as Tom is alive, Brax will be alive. If Tom dies, so does Brax. And everything one feels, the other feels too." She paused. "Long ago, it used to be a part of strict pureblood marriages."

"So Brax can't die?" asked Hermione.

"Not as long as Tom is alive."

"And if someone were to, let's say, use the cruciatus curse on Brax, Tom would feel it?"

I nod. "Yes, my life keeps him alive, but at the cost that we feel each other's pain, endure each other's suffering."

"It can't be undone?" asked Hermione.

Leila shook her head. "No. It can't."

I look at Hermione, my voice low. "I had to save him. It's all I could do. I know it's strange, but-"

Hermione smiled, then pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "You're both alive. That's all that matters."

Still, there was worry in Hermione's eyes. I didn't know if it was from the strangeness of the bonding with Brax, or from her worry about Dracula's prophecy. But there was something...

_Now I know what it was. The truth. The truth about you that you kept from me for so long. The truth about me._

_It was time to tell me, and you knew it._


	33. Soulmate

Rain drummed against the windows, a steady, slow beat, heralding the end of summer and ushering in the start of fall. I sat at home with my legs curled on the sofa, my worn copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ balanced in my lap. I was re-reading the section on the Room of Requirement and thinking about what life would have been like if Dracula had never arrived that fateful Halloween.

We would still be at Wool's about to climb onto the Hogwarts Express at Station 9 ¾. About to finish our last year at Hogwarts.

Brax would not be married. Hermione and I would not be married.

I would not be having a child.

Many terrible things have happened since I'd met that hideous vampire, but also great things, and sometimes I wondered if the great things would have ever happened without him.

Would I have ever fallen in love with Hermione? With Brax?

And though being seventeen, married and an expectant father was not an ideal combination of traits, I would have been lying if I said I did not find pleasure in the life I was leading and its possibilites. I had a beautiful house and a beautiful wife and I'd be dropping Elliot off at King's Cross in just a few days. He told me he would be trying out for the Slytherin quidditch team this year. Brax had been coaching him, and he was as excited as I'd ever seen him.

I looked down at the empty tea cup on my end table, then headed to the kitchen to refill it. Brax and Hermione stood by the small window over the sink, whispering. I stopped before I stepped inside, peering around the doorframe. I'd always had trouble with listening in on other people's conversations.

"I'm sorry," whispered Brax, combing his fingers through his blond locks. "I don't think I've ever said that." He was staring down at his feet.

Hermione touched his hand with the tips of her fingers. "You don't have to be sorry. Never be sorry that he loves you."

"I don't understand you, Hermione. Doesn't it hurt to have to share his heart? Don't you hate me."

She laughed, and her round cheeks blushed. "I've known it. I've known it since I first saw him cast a patronus. If had a problem with it, I would have walked out then."

What about my patronus? _I thought._

"What do you mean?" asked Brax. "How would you-"

"Take out your wand. You're a good man and accomplished wizard. It shouldn't take you long to get it."

Brax hadn't always been the most talented wizard, but in the last year he'd improved dramatically. When someone was out to kill you, there was a desire to improve one's skills.

"The incantation is _Expecto Patronum_." Hermione had that professor quality to her voice again. I remembered it from when she'd instructed me in the same spell. "You must think of something that brings you joy, something good, it needs to touch your soul."

A concerted look on his face, Brax flourished his wand and said the incantation. Silvery light came from the tip.

"Try it again," said Hermione.

He did it two more times and a full bodied ferret came rolling out of the wand and skittering around in the air. Just like mine. Brax hadn't seen my patronus. He didn't get it.

Hermione cast her patronus, the otter. "It is a reflection of our souls, of what makes us good."

Swallowing, I pulled my wand from my cardigan and breathed, "_Expecto patronum."_

Both an otter and a ferret came tumbling into the kitchen to join the others. "I was really just trying to get some tea, but this more fun."

Brax's grey eyes lit as he looked at me. "You have the same patronus as me and Hermione."

"Yes." I brush the backs of my fingers over his cheek then smile over at Hermione.

"But I don't understand. This is the first time I've ever conjured a patronus. How would Hermione have known that it was mine?"

Her body tensed. I could recognize fear in her eyes. "It was a guess."

Worry wracked through me. What was she so scared of? "You seemed certain, love."

Each patronus flickered out.

"I need to speak with Tom," said Hermione to Brax. He nodded.

"I'm just going to say goodbye to Elliot and then head home." Brax kissed me just to the side of my mouth, close enough our lips grazed, then pecked Hermione on the cheek.

He grabbed his grey tweed jacket from the kitchen chair and tugged it over his thin frame. Hermione and I waited in silence until we could no longer hear his footsteps down the hall.

"What's going on?" I stepped closer to her, placing my hands on her waist. She relaxed closer to me.

Hermione was my wife, but she was also Brax's best friend. There was little we did not discuss with him, and this had me worried.

She ran her hands down my chest. I tensed at the touch that still sent waves of desire through my body. "You know I love you. I need you to know that."

"You're scaring me, Hermione."

Her hand went to her stomach, to the baby. "I'm not who you think I am."

"Don't tell me the baby's Brax's." I smile, trying to bring some levity into the conversation.

She tries for a small laugh, but it breaks. "Sit down. Drink some tea."

Nervously, I pull out one of the kitchen chairs and sit down. Her body moves slower than normal as she pours the tea, her pretty red dress bouncing as she moves. Hermione pushes the tea in front of me and sits down. She sighs, opens her mouth to speak, bites her lip, looks up at me, twiddles her thumb, sighs again.

I reach across the table and take her hands. "Tell me, lovely. I'm your husband and nothing changes that. So just tell me."

"I was born in 1981. I'm from the future."

I let out a loud guffaw. I'd never laughed like that, but I'd never heard anything so ridiculous—

"Why are you laughing?" I asked Hermione.

"Because I'm serious."

"How can you be?"

"I am. I promise you, it's true. I never meant to come here, to this time. It was mis- an accident."

I couldn't decide whether or not to be angry she'd almost said mistake, or flattered she'd changed it.

"How?" I asked.

"I was… trapped. Someone was hurting me. Dumbledore had given me…"

"Dumbledore?" I asked, dumbfounded. "You knew Dumbledore in the future?"

"He was the headmaster of Hogwarts. Anyway, he'd given me this magical device in his will. I'd never seen it before, never even heard of it or read anything about it, but I knew what it did." Hermione reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a small silver sphere, like a gobstone, and rolled it to me.

"What was it supposed to do?"

"It was supposed to take me to… my soulmate…"

"It didn't work?" I ask, leaning forward on my elbows. My brain spun so fast I could hardly keep up with or process the impact of what Hermione was saying.

"I didn't think it did. I mean I certainly wasn't trying to get to London in the 1940s."

There was a long pause where I just stared down at my left hand, at my wedding band. "Who were you trying to get to?"

Hermione's eyes were distant, her face pale. "His name was Ron Weasley, and I thought he was…"

"Your soulmate," I said, but the words tasted bitter in my mouth. She was my wife, my girl. Her skin was mine to touch and kiss and whisper against. Not some idiot named Ron. "Wait – who was hurting you?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Damn Lestranges. Why was she?"

"Mudblood, remember?"

"Hermione! Don't."

She shook her head. "It's just a word. Just a stupid word. Doesn't mean anything anymore. Not to me."

I held up the silver sphere. "And you used this because you were trying to get away from her?"

"It was supposed to take me just a few rooms away. To Ron. Instead I ended up in the middle of the London near Wool's."

I let everything she was saying settle in my head, remembering how we'd met, what she said. She'd known my name.

"You knew me. Why did you know me?"

Hermione squeezed my hand. "It doesn't matter. I'm here with you and I love you and we're having a baby."

"The truth, Hermione," I snapped. I didn't mean it to sound so harsh, but I was angry. Angry at her for lying to me, for the deception that threaded my life and I hadn't even known it.

Her ears flushed red. "You were the reason I was being tortured. The reason I had to run and hide. To starve and freeze. You were hunting me down."

"What?"

"Lord Voldemort."

My hands balled into fists, blood rushing out of my face. "Where did you hear that name?"

I'd made it up a few years back. I was going to start using it instead of Riddle, but after Hermione showed up I never got around to it. And now I'd given her the name Riddle. It was something we shared that called us a family

"When I was at Hogwarts, the Chamber of Secrets was opened. I was nearly killed by the basilisk. It was you who opened it then… or at least a part of you."

"What do you mean a part of me?"

"A horcrux."

Now that was too much. How did she know that word? The one Dracula had given me nearly a year ago.

"When you were sixteen, you made a horcrux. Killed someone and split your soul. You hid it in a diary and it was opened my second year at Hogwarts."

I just kept shaking my head. I would never… it couldn't be. But I could have. I was walking that way before I met Hermione. I'd been thinking of it, a way to find immortality and Dracula had given it to me. I never even knew.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I never. I didn't know."

"That's why I was so upset, almost irrationally upset, when it opened. It's why I didn't, couldn't, listen to you when you said you hadn't opened it. Lord Voldemort killed many people. People I loved and people that the people I loved loved. It was said that he had never and could never love. He was you."

I wanted to laugh because I loved, oh how I loved! I loved so much I thought sometimes I'd be torn apart at the measure of it. But I hadn't, I hadn't before I met Hermione. It was like I didn't start existing until she walked into my life. How hadn't I seen it before? I'd known Brax for six years. It had crossed my mind that he had pretty lips and I'd sometimes sneak a look while he changed clothes, but there was no substance to it. Now, the depth of feeling I had for Brax could only be matched by how I felt for Hermione. And oceans would be jealous of it.

"It was you," I said. "Somehow, I couldn't feel before you and you woke me up."

A timid smile crossed her face. "I'm sorry I lied, that I kept this secret. I just didn't know how to tell you… at first about me and then about you. I didn't want-"

"Me to be tempted to become this monster you describe."

"It was hard for me to accept for a long time. I just thought this," she took the silver sphere from my hand, "malfunctioned. I loved Ron and hated you. But then… then you were you, and I fell so in love with you that time just didn't even matter anymore. But I still see it sometimes. What you were… in your face, in that wand, and it scares me."

"You never have to be scared of me, Hermione. I will never hurt you."

"You're the darkest wizard that ever lived. So powerful…"

There was a twinge of pride in my chest, but I swallowed it. How could I find pride in a future where I hurt Hermione, where I didn't have Brax?

I stood and took Hermione's hands, pulling her up to face me. "You beautiful, intelligent, talented, sweet girl." I brushed my thumb over her cheekbone. "If on my tombstone it read. Tom Riddle, husband of Hermione Riddle and friend of Abraxas Malfoy. I could ask for no greater glory."

Tears pooled in her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. It must be so hard for her to reconcile the image of this Lord Voldemort with me, her husband, her friend. It was hard for me to see Hermione as a battleworn woman of the future with loves and friends and joys that stretched out somewhere beyond my reach.

She suddenly giggled.

"What?"

"I'm having Lord Voldemort's baby. Harry would ship me to St. Mungo's." Then a sadness crept over her face.

"You okay?"

"I just miss them… my friends. They'll never remember me, they'll never know me. But then I think if you don't become Voldemort. I bet somewhere in the future. Harry's with his parents and his godfather and so many people are alive all because-"

"You loved me?"

"Because you loved me."

I wrapped my arms around her waist and smiled down at her. She was the most beautiful creature I'd ever seen with her dark eyes and wavy hair and skin bursting with life.

The phone rang, startling me. She gently slipped away from my grasp, mopping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Hello," she said pleasantly. Then her face fell. She looked at me with pity and then mouthed these words,

"I am so sorry, Tom."

**A/N: I tried my best to explain how Hermione got to the future. The time travel thing has worried me more than anything else so let me know if you have any questions. Please review and thanks for reading and sticking with the story. We don't have too far to go :) **


	34. Tell Me Now

"I'm so sorry, Tom. It's Mrs. Cole. She passed away in her sleep last night." Hermione took my hand; I jerked it away.

"Tom…" she whispered.

"Give me a second, Hermione." I turned my back to her, gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. She couldn't be… she couldn't…

I tried to breathe, but I just wheezed in the oxygen.

"Get me water. Please." I coughed.

Hermione's face scrunched up in fear as she pulled a green glass out of the cabinet and filled it with tap water. Her fingers brushed mine as she placed it in my hand. I took a long drink, letting the liquid cool my insides.

Mrs. Cole was the closest thing I ever had to a mother. Even if for years I hated her for something that wasn't her fault. My mother had died and left me and I needed to take that out on someone and I chose her. The symbol of my state as an orphan.

But she wasn't a symbol. She was person, and she was dead… and Dracula. It was him. It had to be. I knew it.

"That bastard." I snapped.

"What?"

"Count Dracula did this."

"Tom I don't think…"

But I wasn't listening. I was pacing the tile floor, seething, blood rushing to my head, pounding like a hammer. "I'll kill him. I swear this time I'll kill him and I'll do it slowly, so slowly Hermione. He'll regret the day he ever-"

"TOM! STOP!" Hermione shouted, her voice so loud and forceful I stopped in my tracks.

"What?" My voice was sharper than I really meant it to be.

"Mrs. Cole was sick, okay? She just was and she died in her sleep. She'd been sick for awhile and didn't tell anyone."

I was still breathing heavily. I'd wanted someone to take my anger and bitterness out on, and if Dracula hadn't done it, what could absorb my sadness? I leaned against the wall, nearly knocking off the clock.

"She should have told me… we could have done something."

"What could we have done? I doubt she wanted to end up like her sister."

"I'm glad we never told her about that now."

Hermione stared down at her bare feet. "Yeah, me too."

A tear burned at the corner of my eye and I leaned my head back to keep it from spilling out, but it didn't work. A single drop streaked down my cheek and caught in the corner of my mouth. Hermione leaned in and kissed it away.

"Elliot," Hermione gasped suddenly.

I turned to see him standing in the doorway in shorts and his striped blue-and-white shirt. His dark eyes were wide under his messy hair. "What happened?"

Hermione moved from me to place a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Mrs. Cole died last night."

Elliot's eyes grew wider. "Ohh…" His gaze turned to me. "She was… she was kind of like a mother to you, wasn't she?"

My stomach tightened at the suggestion. It was true, but I wasn't quite ready to hear it. I nodded.

He slowly walked toward me. "I know what it's like to lose a mother."

I hadn't thought about that in a while. How Elliot had had parents then lost them in the worst way imaginable.

"I'm sorry," he breathed and then wrapped his arms around my waist. I stiffened and looked at Hermione who was smiling sadly at us. I hugged him back a little awkwardly.

"I'll be fine," I said and then let him go.

He paused a second and scratched his head. "I know this isn't the time, but I came down here to say that um I kind of need to get books and stuff from Diagon Alley."

I smiled, happy to think about something else. "We'll go tomorrow, okay?"

Elliot nodded and hurried to the doorway. "I really am sorry, Tom."

"Thanks," I said and his footsteps disappeared down the hallway.

Later than evening, I took a shower and the pain of what had happened pressed down on my shoulders. I couldn't seem to get my mind off Mrs. Cole being gone and never getting to say good-bye, or to apologize to the years of grief I caused her. But what could I do about it now? That was what death was and why I hated it so much. It was a thief who tore everything worthwhile away from me, and I could stop thinking of how one day it would tear Hermione and Brax from me too.

I stepped out of the bathroom and into the living room. Hermione sat on the bed in a pretty pink nightdress. I just stood there watching her as she flipped through the pages of a book. She was so remarkably beautiful, so intelligent, I didn't want to imagine her in another world, in another time, than this one. But I knew she had been. I knew there was so, so much I didn't know about my wife and I would have to learn it, explore this whole new side of the woman I loved.

But there was a place I needed to start. Right now, when my heart was breaking and I needed to feel close to someone. When I needed to know, that even though she was different, she was the same Hermione. And I loved her now and she loved me now and we wouldn't let anything change that.

Hermione gasped. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Since the day we met."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

My fingers unbuttoned my shirt and let it slip onto the floor. I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, but left them on as I touched my wife's shoulders, pushed her back against the bed. My body weighed on hers and I buried my face in her neck, running my tongue from her neck to her ear.

"I need you right now."

She let out a slow, shaky breath. "I need you too."

Her hands gripped my pants and shoved them the rest of the way off. I pushed the strap of her nightdress over her shoulder and kissed the freckles there. She let out that soft sigh that had become so familiar to me.

I tugged off my boxers and without thinking, without planning it, without anything but desire and want and love, I picked her up and sat her on my lap.

"Tom!" she shouted.

"Shh, darling. Elliot's in the other room."

Hermione mumbled something against my neck and the hot vibrations sent shocks through my body.

I loved being connected to her like this, feeling her all around me, and wanting me. Her arms were locked behind my neck and my mouth was on hers, then on her cheek then her neck and then her chest. She leaned her head back and I tangled my fingers in her hair.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"Whatever you're apologizing for, now's not the time." I flipped her forward so I was on top of her, pulling her legs to my sides. Her hair splayed out in a halo around that perfect, blushed face.

"I should've told you about me before we married."

"Yes," I said, the urge to move faster washing over me. "Yes you should have."

She was breathing heavily, writhing underneath my touch. "So, I'm sorry I didn't."

I stopped, leaned in and whispered in her ear. "Let me in, Hermione. Tell me your secrets. Everything you've kept from me. You need to tell me." I bit on her earring and tugged hard. She winced.

"Now?"

"Yes, right now. While I'm inside you." I started moving again, this time slowly, so slowly I wasn't sure how I was doing it without driving myself crazy.

"When I first went to Hogwarts, everyone hated me. Even Harry and Ron. I was crying in a bathroom and you," she let out a shallow laugh, "let a troll into the school which attacked me in the bathroom. They helped me… that's how we became friends."

I fought back the pain in my chest from what she said about me… that I had hurt her, that I could have killed her. "Keep going."

"In my second year, Brax's grandson Draco… he called me a mudblood. It was the first time I heard that word and I didn't even know what it meant. I'd learn though…"

"It doesn't mean a damn thing." My hands pushed up her dress so it was bunched under her arms and I just stared at her perfect body.

"The next year I slapped Draco Malfoy in the face. I flew on a hippogriff, and the year after I that I went to a ball with a world-cup Quidditch player, who was nice, but not very bright… I held Harry when he cried after Voldemort—"

She stopped talking and I pulled down on her chin so her mouth would open up again. I leaned down and kissed her, pressing my tongue into her mouth and tasting our shared toothpaste.

Against her lips I breathed, "Don't stop."

"After you, he, after he killed Cedric Diggory and tried to kill Harry. I organized Dumbledore's Army and did some things I regret to Rita Skeeter and Dolores Umbridge. Not that they didn't deserve it. I fought Death Eaters at the Department of Mysteries and started falling in love with someone. I watched him not want me and it broke my heart. I stood over Albus Dumbledore's body." Her voice became stiff as I stilled inside of her, making sure we were as close as possible.

"I hunted horcruxes. I was hunted by snatchers, running from you and to you at the same time."

This time she moved against me and I let out an unexpected gasp.

"Guess not everything has changed," she whispered.

"But enough has." I started moving again. Hard and fast. Both our bodies were hot and sticky with sweat. "There's more… I can tell."

She laughed softly and kissed me hard, licking softly beneath my tongue. "But I don't think I can remain coherent much longer."

"Tell me more next time," I said hoarsely and then picked her up into my lap again. I tugged the pink fabric the rest of the way off her body, and laid my hand on the slight swell of her stomach. "You wonderful, beautiful girl."

"Tom, I'm…" she whimpered.

My hands stroked her bare back, dancing down the spine. "That's my girl… that's it… there you go."

Like our bodies were built for each other, I couldn't help but be twisted up into her gasping breaths, her tightening body. Tingles shocked from my center all the way to the tips of my toes. I never took my eyes from hers, just watching every little fleck on her irises shimmer.

I laid her back down, waiting inside her, until my body slipped out on its own. We fell asleep that way, naked and together on top of the covers.

**A/N: Sorry this was another chapter kind of within a small amount of time. I just really wanted to focus on Tom emotionally having to deal with Mrs. Cole's death (though he hasn't totally accepted that) and deal with the revelation about Hermione. Within the next chapter, we'll do a big jump in time, and then we'll be getting into the final climactic chapters. Thanks so, so much for reading and please review! **


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